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|  -  S  1^  >  S   ?O.V^.IS. 


A  •         THE  M   j J 

POEMS  ^^^ 

OF 

O  S  S  I  A  N, 

THE 

SON  OF  FINGAL. 

TRANSLATED    BY 

JAMES  MACPHERSON,  Es^ 

TO  WHICH   ARE  PREFIXED, 

DISSERTATIONS  ON  THE  -oERA  AND  POEMS  OF  OSSIAN. 


£a.mcrou  ant!  80urHoc|)'$i  "Etutioii. 


Brintr,  daughter  ofTofcar,  bring  the  hr>.rp;  the  lifrht  of  the  fong 
rife:  ii.  Olu.m'5  l"..u\  It  11  like  the  field,  «  he;;  ria:!;n-fs  cr  -s  the 
hnls  arcund,  and  tne  (hadow  grows  ilowlj  on  the  j  lam  i>f  the  fun. 

THE  WAR  OF  CAKOS. 

WiH  thou  not  linen,  fon  of  the  rock,  to  the  fong  of  OiT.an?   ?.If 

foul  is  full  of  other  times;  the  ;o\  ot  ;ny  youth  returns.     Thus  the 

■>in  the  '.re'.V.  after  the   ltf  t  s  or  hi->  brit;l;ii:ei-  hire  .-■■•v. 

1  1  norm;  the;    ecu   hilb   lift  their  dew  \  heaiiSj   the  blue 

fUeama  lejoice  in  the  vale. 

CALTHOX  AND  COi.MAL. 


VOL.  II. 


ED  WITH  SUFF.KB  ENGft 


(Maftroto : 

Printed  for  CAMERON  &  MVRDOCH, 
No.  102,  'i  rongate. 


CSSIAN's  POEMS, 

TRANSLATED  BY 

JAMES  MACPHERSON,  Esc^ 

VOL.  II. 


CONTAINING 
CARTHOM,  I!    EERRATHON, 

DAR-TKUI.A,  j[    TEMORA, 

CARRIC-TKURA,  H    CATH-LODA, 

&c.   &c.    &c. 


And  rha'.t  thou  remain,  ajed  Bard  !   when  thr  mighty  have  fail- 
ed; But  r  . 
Iht'wiiid!      1S    '0dU  e       m,  an    rqoices  in 

EERRATHON. 


Printed  Or  CAMERON  &  MURDOCH, 

N».  IOZ,  Trouble. 


C  A  R  T  H  O  N: 

A    POEM. 


THE  ARGUMENT. 

i  poem  Is  complete,  and  thefubjc<5t  of  it,asofmoft  ofOflian'scomwfition';,  tra- 

1,C  It-!"-  inivmr  the  fun  .if  Thaddu  and  broth  :r  ,,i"  Mi.rna.  .' ui^.-.l's  mother,  waj 


driven  by  a  ft, 

rm  into  the  ri\ 

on  the  banks  of 

a  town  belpnging  to  the  Britons  betwe 

en  the  walls.     He 

by  ReuUiauiir 

,  the    principal  man   in 

Moma,  came 

Aquarrelenf. 

prettied  fohar 

Clyde,  and  fw 

o  Tea.     He  oft 

oured  to  return, 

ed  Moir.a  by  r 

ight  ;  but  the 

tinuing  contrary, 

doina,  who  had  been  left  v.'i 

n  child  b 

•   her  hulband,  b 

,rced  to  defiit. 

,  brought  forth  a  fon,  and 
died  loon  after.  Rcv.lmnir  named  the  child  Carthon  '  i.  e.  the  murmur  of 
wive>,'  from  the  ft.irm  .ihithcarncd  off  eici'sammor  his  father,  wtio  wasfuppo- 
fed  to  have  bee:,  cart  away.  When  Ca.  thon  was  ■  hree  years  ..id,  Comhal  the  fa- 
ther of  Fingal,  in  .me  of  his  expeditions  agt.init  the  Britonsj  took  and  burnt 
Balclutba.  Reuthamir  was  killed  in  the  attack  :  and  Cannon  was  carried  fate 
2Tiv  liv  his  nurfc,  \v!io  flei  farther  into  the  country  of  the  .ritous  Carthcn, 
coming  to  man's  eftate  was  refolved  to  revenge  the  fall  of  Balcluthr.  on  Com. 
hal>  p.illerity.  He  fel  fail,  from  the  Clyde,  and,  falling  on  the  coait  nf  Morven, 
defeated  two  of  r.ngal's  heroes,  who  came  to  oppofe  his  progref^.  He  was,  at 
lalt, unwittingly  killed  o)  nis  ra=her  Clefsamm.ir,  in  a  lingle  combat.  T.vis  itol 
rv  is  lh~  foundation  of  the  prefent  poem,  which  opens  on  the  night  preceding 
the  death  of  Carthon,  fo  that  what  pail'..-!  before  is  introduced  by  wayufepi 
fode.      The  poem  is  addrerTeu  to  Malvina  the  daughter  of  Tofcar. 

A  tale  of  the  times  of  old  !  The  deeds  of  days  of 
other  years  ! 
The  murmur  of  thy  fireams,  O  Lora,  brings  back 
the  memory  of  the  paft.  The  found  of  thy  woods, 
Garmallar,  is  lovely  in  mine  ear.  Doft  thou  not  be- 
hold, Malvina,  a  rock  with  its  head  of  heath  ?  Three 
aged  firs  bend  from  its  face  ;  green  is  the  narrow  plain 
at  its  feet ;  there  the  flower  of  the  mountain  grows, 
and  fhakes  its  white  head  in  the  breeze.  The  thiflle  is 
there  alone,  and  fheds  its  aged  beard.  Two  ftones, 
half  funk  in  the  ground,  fhew  their  heads  of  mofs. 
The  deer  of  the  mountain  avoids  the  place,  for  he  be- 
holds the  gray  ghoft  that  guards  it  f,  for  the  mighty 
lie,  O  Malvina,  in  the  narrow  plain  of  the  rock. 

•  opinion  of  the  times,  that  deer  ] 
thii  day ,  when  bealts  fuddeiilv  fta:  t  seithouL  any 
tflat  tbe>j  fee  the  foiiite  of  the  dccoalcd. 


6  carthon: 

A  tale  of  the  times  of  eld  !  the  deeds  of  days  of  other 
years ! 

Who  comes  from  the  land  of  ftrangers,  with  his 
thoufands  around  him  ?  the  fun-beam  pours  its  bright 
ftream  before  him ;  and  his  hair  meets  the  wind  of 
his  hills.  His  face  is  fettled  from  war.  He  is  calm  as 
the  evening  beam,  that  looks  from  the  cloud  of  the 
weft,  on  Cona's  filent  vale.  Who  is  it  but  Comhai's 
fon  If,  the  king  of  mighty  deeds!  He  beholds  his  hills 
with  joy,  and  bids  a  thoufand  voices  rife.  Ye  have 
fied  over  your  fields,  ye  fons  of  the  diftant  land  !  The 
king  of  the  world  fits  in  his  hall,  and  hears  of  his  peo- 
ple's flight.  He  lifts  his  red  eye  of  pride,  and  takes 
his  father's  fword.  "  Ye  have  fled  over  your  fields, 
fons  of  the  difiant  land  !" 

Such  were  the  words  of  the  bards,  when  they  came 
to  Selma's  halls.  A  thoufand  lights  ||  from  the  Gran- 
ger's land  rofe,  in  the  midA  of  the  people.  The  feaft 
is  fpread  around ;  and  the  night  pafied  away  in  joy. 
tt  Where  is  the  noble  Clefsammorf?"faid  the  fair- haired 
Fingal.  "Where  is  the  companion  of  my  father,  in  the 
days  of  my  joy  ?  Sullen  and  dark  he  pafies  his  days  in 
the  vale  or  echoing  Lora :  but,  behold,  he  comes  from 
the  hill,  like  a  fteed  in  his  flrength,  who  finds  his  com- 
panions in  the  breeze  ;  and  tones  his  bright  mane  in 
the  wind.  Bieft  be  the  foul  of  Clefsammor,  why  fo 
long  from  Selhia  ?" 

•  "  Returns  the  chief,"  faid  Clefsammor,  "in  the  midft 
of  his  fame  ?  Such  was  the  renown  of  Gomhal  in  the 
battles  of  his  youth.  Often  did  we  pafs  over  Carun  to 
the  land  of  the  ftrangers;  our  fworcls  returned,  not  un- 
fiained  with  blood;  nor  did  the  kirigS  of  the  world  re- 
joice. Why  do  I  remember  the  battles  of  my  youth  ? 
My  hair  is  mixed  with  gray.  My  hand  forgets  to  bend 
the  Low  ;  and  I  lift  a  lighter  fpear.     O  that  my  joy 

IF  Filial  returns  here,  from  an  expedition  againft  the   Romans,  which  was  cc- 

Dffiarj  in  a  particular  poem. 
f|  Probebly  wax-ligfets:   wtiicn  arc  often  mentioned  as  carried,  amoiig  ottw 
booty,  from  the  Roma  I  • 

t  Clelf<Hnb-uior,  •  might  J  dcciis.' 


A  POEM.  7 

return,  ai  when  I  firfl  beheld  the  maid;  the 
bofomed  daughter  of  (hangers,  Moina  f  f  with 
the  dark  bine  eyes  !   ' 

"  TeU/'  faid  the  mighty  Fingal,  "  the  tale  of  thy 
youthful  days.  Sorrow,  like  a  cloud  on  the  Ibn,  fhades 
or.  Mournful  are  thy  thoughts, 
alone,  on  the  banks  of  the  roaring  Lora.  Let  us  hear 
*>wofthy  youth,  and  the  darknefs  of  thy  days. 
'«  :r  was  in  the  days  of  peace,"  replied  the  great 
Clefsammor,  **  I  came,  in  my  bounding  fliip,  to  Bal- 
clutha's  ]|  wails  of  towers.  The  wind  had  roared  be- 
hind my  (alls,  and  Ciutha's^  ftreams  received  my  d?."k- 
bofomed  veflel.  Three  days  I  remained  in  Reutha- 
mir's  halls,  and  faw  that  beam  of  light,  his  daughter. 
The  joy  or  the  fhell  went  round,  and  the  aged  hero 
gave  the  fair.  Her  breafts  were  like  foam  on  the 
wave,  and  her  eyes  like  ftars  of  light :  her  hair 
was  dark  as  the  raven's  wing  :  her  foul  was  generbu* 
and  mild.  My  love  for  Moina  was  great :  and  my 
oured  forth  in  joy. 
1  The  fon  of  a  ilraneer  came  ;  a  chief  who  loved 
.  white-bofomed  Moina.  His  words  were  mighty 
in  the  hall,  and  he  often  half  unfheathed  his  fwora. 
Where,    he  faid,  is  the  mighty  Comhal,  the  r 

■  f  the  heath  r  Comes  he,  with  his  licit, 

toBalciutha,  fince  Cle&ammor  is  fo  told?  My  foul,  I 

Replied,  O  warrior!  bums   in   alight  of  its   own.     I 

Rand  without  fear  in  the  midfl  of  thcufands,  though 

.    diftant  far.     Stranger!  thy  words  are 

for   Clefsammor  is    alone.     But   my  lvvord 

by  my  lice;,  and  longs  to  glitter  in  my  hand. 


tenter  and  perton.'    Wc  t 

:h  isa  proof  t 
I 

f  Scrie. 
1 

•    .-.    .   .      .-..  ■  .  .    i  I  l. .at  n,ir.      I'r;;!      ' 

' 

:C-..(.^0Ei3aSj0naccru-. 


%  carThon: 

Speak  no  more  of  Comhal,  fon  of  the  winding  Clutha!'' 

"  The  firength  of  his  pride  arofe.  We  fought ;  he 
fell  beneath  my  fword.  The  banks  of  Clutha  heard 
his  fall,  and  a  thoufand  fpears  glittered  around.  I 
fought:  the  ftrangers  prevailed:  I  plunged  into  the 
ftream  of  Clutha.  My  white  fails  rofe  over  the  waves, 
and  I  bounded  on  the  dark -blue  fea.  Moina  came  to 
the  fhore,  and  rolled  the  red  eye  of  her  tears  :  her  dark 
hair  flew  on  the  wind  ;  and  I  heard  her  cries.  Often 
did  1  turn  my  fhip  ;  but  the  winds  of  the  eaft  prevailed. 
Nor  Clutha  ever  fince  have  I  feen :  nor  Moina  of  the 
dark-brown  hair.  She  fell  on  Balclutha  ;  for  I  have 
ft  en  her  gholt.  I  knew  her  as  fh.e  came  through  the 
dufky  night,  along  the  murmur  Ox  Lora  :  fhe  was  like 
the  new  moon  feen  through  the  gathered  mift:  when 
the  Iky  pours  down  its  flaky  fnow,and  the  world  is  filent 
and  dark." 

"  Raife  f,  ye  bards,"  faid  the  mighty  Fingal,  "  the 
praife  of  unhappy  Moina.  Call  her  ghofl,  with  your 
longs,  to  our  hills ;  that  fhe  may  reft  with  the  fair  of 
Morven,  the  fun-beams  of  other  days,  and  the  delight 
of  heroes  of  old.  I  have  feen  the  walls  of  Balclutha, 
but  they  were  defolate.  The  fire  had  refounded  in  the 
halls:  and  the  voice  of  the  people  is  heard  no  more.  The 
ftream  of  Clutha  was  removed  from  its  place,  by  the  fall 
of  the  walls.  The  thiftle  fhook,  there,  its  lonely  head  : 
the  mofs  whiftled  to  the  wind.  The  fox  looked  out 
from  the  windows,  the  rank  grafs  of  the  wall  waved 
round  his  head.  Defolate  is  the  dwelling  of  Moina,  11- 
lence  is  in  the  houfe  of  her  fathers.  Raife  the  fong  of 
mourning,  O  bards,  over  the  land  of  ftrangers.  They 
have  but  fallen  before  us  :  for,  one  day,  we  muft  fall. 
Why  doft  thou  build  the  hall,  fon  of  the  winged  days  ? 
thou  lookeffc  from  thy  towers  to-day  ;  yet  a  few  years, 
and  the  blaft  of  the  defert  comes  ;  it  howls  in  thy  empty 


■u'l'iaiicnj  goes  Ivj  ur  a 


A    POEM.  9 

collet,  and  whittles  round  thy  half-worn  fhield.  -Ancl 
let  the  blaft  of  the  defert  come !  we  fhall  be  renowned  ;u 
our  day.  The  mark  of  my  arm  mail  be  in  the  battle,  and 
my  name  in  the  fong  of  bards.  Raifethe  long;  fend  round 
the  fliell:  and  let  joy  be  heard  in  my  hall.  When 
thou,  fun  of  heaven,  fhalt  fail  !  if  thou  {halt  fail,  thou 
inignty  light  !  if  thy  brightnefs  is  forafeafon,  like  Fin- 
gal  ;  our  fame  mall  furvive  thy  beams." 

Such  was  the  fong-  of  Fingal,  in  the  day  of  his  joy. 
His  thou/knd  bards  leaned  forward  from  their  feats,  to 
hear  the  voice  of  the  king.  It  was  like  the  m  . 
the  harp  on  the  gale  of  the  fpring.  Lovely  were  thy 
thoughts,  O  Fingal !  why  had  not  OlTian  the  ftrengtrt 
of  thy  foul  ?  But  thou  flandelt  alone,  my  father  ;  and 
who  can  equal  the  king  of  Morven  ? 

The  night  palled  away  in  long,  and  morning  return- 
ed in  joy  ;  the  mountains  fhewed  their  gray  heads  ; 
and  the  blue  face  of  ocean  fmiled.  The  white  wave 
is  feen  tumbling  round  the  diflant  rock  ;  the  gray  :  .  .1 
rifesi  flowly,  from  the  lake.  It  came,  in  the  figure  o£ 
an  aged  man,  along  the  filent  plain.  Its  large  limbsi 
did  not  move  in  fleps ;  for  a  ghofl  fupported  it  in  mid 
air.  It  came  towards  Selma's  hail,  and  difTolvtd  in  a 
mower  of  blood. 

The  king  alone  beheld  the  terrible  fight,  and.he.forp- 
faw  the  death  of  the  people.  He  came,  in  filence,  to 
his  hall  ;  and  took  his  father's  fpear.  The  mail  rattled 
on  his  breaft.  The  heroes  rofe  around.  They  I 
in  filence  on  each  other,  marking  the  eyes  of  Fingal. 
They  faw  the  battle  in  his  face :  the  death  of  ar- 
mies on  his  fpear.  A  thoufand  (hields,  at  once,  are, 
placed  on  their  arms ;  and  they  crew  a  thoufand  i v 
The  hall  of  Selma  brightened  around.  The  clang  of 
arms  afcends.  The  gray  dogs  howl  in  their  place; 
rd  is  among  the  mighty  chiefs.  Each  mark- 
ed the  eves  of  the  king  ;    and  half-afiumed  his  fpear. 

"  Sons  of  Morven,"  begun  the  king,    "this  is  no 

time  to  fill  the  fliell.    The  battle  darkens  near  us;  and 

vert  over  the  land.     Some  ghoft,  the  friend  oi;" 

Vol.  II.  B 


IO  CARTFTOSf: 

Tir.gal,  has  forewarned  ue  of  the  foe.  The  fofius  of  the 
granger  come  from  the  darkly  rolling  fea.  For,  from 
the  water,  came  the  fign  of  Morven's  gloomy  danger. 
Let  each  afiume  his  heavy  (pear,  and  gird  on  his  fa- 
ther's fword.  Let  the  dark  helmet  rite  on  every  head  ; 
and  the  mail  pour  its  lightning  from  every  fide.  The 
battle  gathers  like  a  temped,  and  foon  mall  ye  hear  the 
roar  of  death." 

The  hero  moved  on  before  his  hoft,  like  a  cloud  be- 
fore a  ridge  of  heaven's  fire ;  wh<  n  it  pours  on  the 
iky  of  night,  and  mariners  forefee  a  ilcrm.  ( hi  Gona  p 
riling  heath  they  flood :  the  white  befomed  maids  be- 
held them  above  like  a  grove  ;  they  forefaw  the  Heath 
of  their  youths,  and  looked  towards  the  fea  with  fear. 
The  white  wave  deceived  them  for  diflaht  fails,  and 
the  tear  is  en  their  cheek.  The  fun  rofe  on  the  fea,  and 
we  beheld  a  dlfiant  fleet.  Like  the  mift  of  ocean  they 
came  :  and  poured  their  youth  upon  the  coaft.  The 
chief  was  among  them,  like  the  Rag  in  the  midll  of  the 
herd.  His  fhield  is  ftudded  with  gold,  and  {lately  ftrode 
the  king  of 'pears.  He  moved  towards  Selmaj  hiothou- 
fands  moved  behind. 

"  Go,  with  thy  fong  of  peace,"  faid  Fingal  ;  "  go, 
ITllin,  to  the  king  of  fwords.  Tell  him  that  we  are 
mighty  in  battle  ;  and  that  the  ghefis  of  our  foes  are 
many.  But  renowned  are  they  who  have  feafted  in  my 
lialls  !  they  fhew  the  arms  +  of  my  fathers  in  a  foreign; 
land:  the  ions  of  the  ftrangers  wonder,  and  blefs  the 
friends  of  Mqrven's  race;  for  our  names  have  been 
heard  afar  ;  the  kings  of  the  world  fhcok  in  the  miuft 
of  their  people." 

Ullin  went  with  his  fong.  Fingal  relied  on  his  fpear  : 
Tie  faw  the  mighty  foe  in  his  armours  and  he  bl<  ft  the 
granger's  fori.  "  How  ftately  art  thou,  fen  of  the  fea  !" 
faid  the  king  of  woody  Morven.  "  Th'y  fword  is  a 
beam  of  might  by  thy  fide  :  thy  fpear  is  a  fir  that  ck  lies 

4  It  >V5S!  r-iftnm  arronir  the  mcj-r.t  S-nts  to  fxchnt'r?  ?v.i-;  -v!!h  ihrir  cneflt, 
mui  thou  .i.ti.sv    i..-:,i    ic.vcil  lor..-  i.   tixdi    Jrentfamilie*,  ssaipnuiiici.il  sjittia 

tnu:<U(ujj  wuidi  ii,.i..;iu  bctucca  ticir  *H(-Litcrs. 


A    POEM.  IT 

the  florm.  The  varied  fare  of  the  moon  is  not  broad- 
er than  thy  ihlehl.  Ruddy  is  thy  face  of  youth  !  fo't 
the  ringlets  of  thy  hair!  But  this  Wee  may  fall;  and 
his  memory  be  forgot i  The  daughter  of  the  ftran* 
ger  w  ill  be  fad,  and  look  to  the  rollibg  fea  :  the  children 
Will  fay,  Wt  fee  ajbip  ;  peth  ,/>s  it  ^  tbe  tihg  «/  3 
The  tear  ftai  ts  from  their  mother's  eye.  Her  thoughts 
are  of  him  thai  Keeps  in  Man 

Such  were  the  words  ox  the  king,  when  Ullln  came 
to  the  mighty  Carthon  :  he  threw  down  the  Ipear  be- 
fore him  ;  and  raffed  the  long  of  peace,  "  Come  to 
the  fieaft  of  Fingal,  Carthon,  from  the  rolling  fea  !  pari- 
take  the  feaft  of  the  king,  or  lift  the  fpear  of  war.  The 
ghofts  of  our  fees  are  many :  but  renowned  are  the 
friends  of  Morven  i  Behold  that  field,  O  Carthon  ; 
a  green  hill  rlfes  there  with  mofiy  ftones  and  mil- 
ling grate  :  thefe  arc  the  tombs  of  FingaTs  fees,  the  fons 
of  the  rolling  fea." 

*'  Doll  thou  fpeak  to  the  feeble  in  arms,"  laid  Car- 
then,  "  bard  of  the  woody  Morven  ?  Is  my  face  pale 
for  fear,  fon  of  the  peaceful  fdngj  Why,  then,  doft 
thou  think  to  darken  my  foul  with  the  tales  of  thoie 
who  fell  ?  My  arm  has  fought  in  the  battle;  my  re- 
nown is  known  afar.  Go  to  the  feeble  in  arms,  and 
bid  them  yield  to  Fingal.  Have  not  I  feen  the  fallen 
:ha  ?  And  fhall  1  feaft  with  Comhal's  fen  ?  Com- 
hai  i  who  threw  his  fire  in  the  midfi  of  my  father's  hall'I 
1  was  young,  and  knew  not  the  caufe  why  the  virgins 
wept.  The  columns  of  fmoke  pleafed  mine  eye,  when. 
they  rofe  above  my  walls  ;  I  often  looked  back,  with, 
gkdnefs,  when  my  friends  fled  along  the  hill.  But 
when  the  years  of  my  youth  came  on,  I  beheld  the 
mcis  of  my  fallen  walls  :  my  figh  aroie  with  the  morn- 
ing, and  my  tears  defcended  with  night.  Shall  I  not 
.  I  faid  to  my  foul,  againft  the  children  of  my  foes  ? 
.And  I  will  fight,  O  bard ;  1  feel  the  flrength  of  my 
foul." 

His  people  gathered  around  the  hero,  and  drew,  at 
ence,.  their  Alining  fvvords.     He  Hands,  in  the  midll, 
B  a 


ia  carthon: 

like  a  pillar  of  fire  ;  the  tear  half-ftarting  from  his  eye, 
for  he  thought  of  the  fallen  Balclutha,  and  the  crowded 
pride  of  his  foul  arofe.  Sidelong  he  looked  up  to  the 
hill,  where  our  heroes  fhone  in  arms  ;  the  fpear  trem- 
bled in  his  hand  :  and,  bending  forward,  he  feemed  to 
threaten  the  king. 

"  Shall  I,"  faid  Fingal  to  his  foul,  "  meet,  at  once, 
the  king:  Shall  I  flop  him,  in  the  midft  of  his  courfe, 
before  his  fame  fhal!  arife ?  But  the  bard,  hereafter,  may- 
fay,  when  he  fees  the  tomb  of  Carthon  ;  Fingal  took 
liis  thoufands,  along  with  him,  to  battle,  before  the  no- 
ble Carthon  fell.  No  :  bard  of  the  times  to  come  ! 
thou  fhalt  not  lefTen  Fingal's  fame.  My  heroes  will 
fight  the  youth,  and  Fingal  behold  the  battle.  If  he 
overcomes,  I  rulh,  in  my  frrength,  like  the  roaring 
f.i  earn  of  Ccna.  Who,  of  my  heroes,  will  meet  the  fon 
cf  the  rolling  fea  ?  Many  are  his  warriors  on  the  ccaft : 
and  ftrong  is  his  alhen  fpear  !" 

Cathulf  rofe,  in  his  ftrength,  the  fon  of  the  mighty 
Lermar :  three  hundred  youths  attend  the  chief,  the 
race  i|  of  his  native  ftreams.  Feeble  was  his  arm  againft 
Carthon,  he  fell;  and  his  heroes  fled.  Connal  1i  re- 
ditu td  the  battle,  but  he  broke  his  heavy  fpear:  he  lay 
bound  on  the  field  :  and  Carthon  purfued  his  people. 
"  Clefsammor  I"  faid  the  king -ft  of  Morven,  "  where 
is  the  fpear  of  thy  ftreiigth  ?  Wilt  thou  behold  Connal 
bound  ;  thy  friend,  at  the  ftream  of  Lora  ?  Rile,  in  the 
light  of  thy  fteel,  thou  friend  of  Ccmhal.  Let  the  youth 
of  Balclutha  feel  the  ftrength  of  Morven's  race."  Fie 
roie  in  the  ftrength  of  his  fteel  fhak:-ng  his  grifly  locks, 
lit  fitted  the  fhicid  to  his  fide ;  and  rufhed,  in  the  pride 
of  valour. 

Carthon  flood,  on  that  heathy  rock,  and  faw  the  he- 

•fCath-'huil.  '  the  eye  of  battle.' 

II  it  appears,  lu.:n  uiu  pa., apt,  that  danfhip  was  cfiablifhed  in  the  days  of 
Fii.iv.il,  Vhi.ugii  not  on  the  i;u,.c  fnotim;  with  '.he  picicnt  tribes  in  the  north  of 
Scotland. 

V  i  his,  Conr.i'.l  i-.  vcr^  ni.ich  <  :ieb--attil,  in  sr.der.t  poetry,  for  hi-,  wifdem  and 
va:  .[•■  :  th  i.-  i-  .1  li..ali  twU-  ll.U  i,.M.k.:.r.  in  the  North,  h  ho  pretead  they  aie 
,.-.,<       ,  ,     :  i.vin  liim. 

f  i  Fingitl  did  not  then  know  that  Carthou  was  the  fob  ol  Cltisamnior. 


A    POEM.  Ij 

m*<-  approach.    He  loved  the  ferrible  joy  of  his  face  : 

I    the  locks  of  ayr.     "  Shall   I  1  i it 

.    "  that  never  itrikes,  but  once,  a 

Foe  ?  Or  mall  I,  with  the  words  of  peace,  pfeferve  the 

warrior's  life?    Stately  are  his  fteps  of  age!    lovely 

if  hh  years.  Perhaps  it  is  the  love  oi:  Moi- 

ra  ;  the  father  of  car-borne  Carthon.     Often  Lav-  I 

that  he  dwelt  at  the  echoing  itream  of  Lova." 

Sue''-  rds,  when  Ciefsammor  came,  and 

lifted  high   his  fpear.     The  youth  received  it  on  his 

Blield  fpoke  the  words  of  peace.     "  Warrior  of 

1  locks!    Is  there  no  youth  to  lift  the  lpcar  ? 

Haft  thou  ii«)  ;  the  fhieid  before  his  father, 

cud  i:o  meet  the  arm  of  youth?  Is  the  fpbufe  of  thy  love 

no  more,  I  or  weeps  me  ovci  the  tombs  of  thy  fqps  ? 

Ar,.  thou  of  the  kings  of  meij  ?  What  will  be  the  fame 

of  my  fword  if  thou  malt  fall :" 

"  It  ,thoufon  of  pride!"  begun  the  tall 

'-         '  imor,  "I  have  been  rendwned  in  battle;  but  I  ne- 
ver t' '(:  to  a  foe.     Yield  to  me,  Ion  of  the 
Wave,andthenthOuihal    ;  tthemarkdfmyfworcl 
is  in  many  a  field/'  "  I  never  yielded,  king  of  fpears  V' 
replied  the  noble  pride  of  Carthon  :  ;i  1  have  alio  fought 
in  battles  !  and  I  behold  my  future  fame.    Defpife  me 
not,  thou  chief  of  men  ;  my  arm,  my  fpear  is  ftroeig* 
Retire  among  thy  friends,  and  let  young  heroes  fight.  ** 
«'  Why  dofi  thou  v.  tfund  my  foiil?"  replied  Clefsamiru  r 
wi:h  a  tear;    "  Age  Stfes  n  -t  tremble  on  my  hand;  I 
lllii  can  lift  the  fword:     Shall  I  fly  in  Pingal's  light ;  in 
tra  I  loved  ?  Son  of  the  icaT  1  never  fled  : 
.  jar." 
'J  he]  fought,  like  two  contending  winds,  thitftrive 
t"  roll  the  wavei     Ca         i  trtoerr;  for 
>.as  the  fpoufe  of  Moina. 
B  3 

t  To  tell  ore';  Rami;  tn  ai  cr.tr.iv  vat  reckoned  in  tbote  dv/s  of  hproifm,  a 

munif^lt  f.     .  ■       •  .   \    i;v  :  ,      >  .':  i,  ,  -drtli'/ luh. 

.     ■-.  edii   jit 
.    .    A   ..^i  v;ii>j  celi» 
for  u    j'.vai'u. 


X4  CARTHON: 

He  broke  Clefsammor's  beamy  ipear  in  twain ,  and  feiz- 
ed  his  fhining  fvvord.  But  as  Carthon  was  binding 
the  chief ;  the  chief  drew  the  dagger  or  his  fathers. 
He  faw  the-foe's  uncovered  fide  ;  and  opened,  there,  a 
wound. 

Fingal  faw  Clefsammor  low :  he  moved  in  the  found 
of  his  fteel.  The  hoft  flood  filent,  in  his  prefence ;  they 
turned  their  eyes  towards  the  hero.  He  came,  like  the 
fullen  noife  of  a  ftorm,  before  the  winds  arife  :  the  hun- 
ter hears  it  in  the  vale,  and  retires  to  the  cave  of  the 
rock.  Carthon  flood  in  his  place  :  the  blood  is  rufhing 
down  his  fide  :  he  faw  the  coming  down  of  the  king  ; 
and  his  hopes  of  fame  arofe  f  ;  but  pale  was  his  cheek  : 
his  hair  flew  loofe,  his  helmet  ihcok  on  high  :  the  force 
of  Carthon  failed  !  but  his  foul  was  ftrong. 

Fingal  beheld  the  hero's  blood;  he  flopt  the  uplift- 
ed fpear.  "  Yield,  king  of  Avoids  I"  faid  Cpmhal's 
fon  ;  "  I  behold  thy  blood.  Thou  hail  been  mighty  in 
battle;  and  thy  fame  fhall  never  fade."  "  Art  thou 
"the  king  fo  far  renowned  ?"  replied  the  car-borne  Car- 
thon. "  Art  thou  that  light  of  death,  that  Frightens 
the  kings  of  the  world  ?  But  why  mould  Carthon  afk  ? 
for  he  is  like  the  ftream  of  Ins  defert  ;  ftrong  as  a  river, 
in  his  courfe :  fwift  as  the  eagle  of  the  Iky.  O  that  I 
had  fought  with  the  king;  that  my  fame  might  be  great 
in  the  fong  !  that  the  hunter,  beholding  my  tomb, 
might  fay,  he  fought  with  the  mighty  Fingal.  But 
Carthon  dies  unknown  !  he  ha:,  poured  out  his  force  on 
the  feeble." 

<;  But  thou  (halt  not  die  unknown,"  replied  the  king 
of  woody  Morven:  "  my  bards  are  many,  O  Carthon, 
and  their  fongs  defcend  to  future  times.  The  children 
of  the  years  to  come  fhall  hear'  the  fame  of  Carthon  ; 
when  they  fit  round  the  burning  oak  ||,  and  the  night 


tThtee 


tfcey  burnt  a  large^mnk  of  an  oak 

.  !t-.<L.     Tmvj  !'..'.,:  ;i   n_ :  h  conic- 
kind  uHdcriictt  to  d;iuie  it. 


A    POEM.  gg 

is  fpent  in  the  fongs  of  old.  The  hunter,  fitting  in  the 
heath,  (hall  hear  the  milling  blaft;  and,  railing  his  eye*, 
behold  the  rock  where  Carthon  tell.  He  fhail  turn  to 
his  Ion,  and  fhew  the  place  where  the  mighty  fought ; 

'lb.  re  the  kin\r  uf  Buldutha  fought,  like  the  frength  of  a  thou- 
fanc/  flreamsm" 

Joy  role  in  Carthon's  face:  he  lifted  his  heavy  eves. 
He  gave  his  fword  to  Fingal,  to  lie  within  his  hall,  that 
the  memory  of  Balclutha's  king  might  remain  on  Mor- 
ven.  The  battle  ceafed  along  the  field,  for  the  bard 
had  fung  the  fong  of  peace.  The  chiefs  gathered 
round  the  falling  Carthon,  and  heard  his  words,  with 
fighs.  Silent  they  leaned  on  their  fpea~s,  while  Bal- 
clutha's hero  fpoke.  His  hair  fighed  in  the  wind,  and 
his  words  were  feeble. 

"  King  of  Morven,"  Carthon  laid,  "  I  fall  in  the 
midft  of  my  courfe.  A  foreign  tomb  receives,  in  youth, 
the  lafl  of  Reuthimir's  race.  Darkneis  dwells  in  lial- 
plutha:  and  the  fhadovvs  of  grief  in  Crathmo.  But 
raile  my  remembrance  on  the  banks  o:  Lora :  where 
my  fathers  dwelt.  Perhaps  the  hufoand  of  Moina  will 
mourn  over  his  fallen  Carthon."  His  words  reached 
the  heart  of  Clcfsimmor:  he  fell,  in  fiience,  on  his  fon. 
The  hoft  flood  darkened  around :  no  voice  is  on  the 
plains  of  Lora.  Night  came,  and  the  moon,  from  the 
eaft,  looked  on  the  mournful  field  :  but  ftill  they  flood, 
like  aliient  grove  that  lifts  its  head  on  Gormal,  when 
the  loud  winds  are  laid,  and  dark  autumn  is  on  the 
plain. 

Three  days  they  mourned  over  Carthon:  on  the 
fourth  his  father  died.  In  the  narrow  plain  of  the 
rock  they  lie  :  and  a  dim  ghofl  defends  their  tomb. 
There  lovely  Moina  is  often  feen;  when  the  fun  beam 
darts  on  the  rock,  and  all  around  is  dark,  There  flie 
is  feen,  Malvina,  but  not  like  the  daughters  of  the  hill. 
Her  robes  are  from  the  llrangers  land  ;  and  (he  k  ftill  a- 
lone. 

Fingal  was  fad  for  Carthon  ;  he  defired  his  bards  to 
mark  the  day,  when  fhadowy  autumn  returned.    And 


l6  CARTHON: 

often  did  they  mark  the  day,  and  firig  the  hn-n's 
praife.  "  Who  comes  fo  dark  from  ocean's  roar,  like 
autumn's  fliadowy  cloud?  Death  is  trembling  in  his 
hand '  his  eyes  are  flames  of  fire !  Who  roars  along  dark 
Lora's  heath?  Who  but  Carthon  king  of  Iwortfe?  The 
people  fall!  He!  how  he  ftrides,  like  the  fallen  ghoit 
of  Morven!  But  there  he  lies  a  goodly  oal<,  which  fud- 
den  bjafts  overturned!  When  fhait  thou  rife,  Balchi- 
tha's  joy!  lovely  car-borne  Carthon?  Who  comes  fo 
dark  from  ocean  s  roar,  like  autumn's  madbwy  ejond  ?" 
Such  were  the  words  of  the  bards,  in  the  day  oi  ■  }■-■  ir 
mourning:  I  have  accompanied  their  voice;  and  add- 
ed to  their  fong.  My  foul  has  been  mournful  for  Car- 
thon ,  he  fell  in  the  days  of  his  valour:  and  thou,  O  Clefs- 
ammor!  where  is  thy  dwelling  in  the  air?  Has  the 
youth  forgot  his  wound?  And  flies  he,  on  the  clouds, 
with  thee?  I  feel  the  fun,  O  Malvina,  leave  me  to  my 
reft.  Perhaps  they  may  come  to  my  dreams;  I  think 
I  hear  a  feeble  voice.  The  beam  of  heaven  delights  to 
fhine  on  the  grave  of  Carthon:  I  feel  it  warm  a  -oiindi, 
O  thou  that  roileft  above,  round  as  the  fhield  of  my 
fathers!  Whence  are  thy  beams,  O  fun!  thy  everlaft- 
ing  light  ?  Thou  comeft  forth,  in  thy  awful  beauty,  and 
the  ftars  hide  themfelves  in  the  Iky;  the  moenj  cold 
and  pale,  finks  in  the  weftern  wave.  But  thou  th'yfelf 
movefl  alone  :  who  can  be  a  companion  of  thy  couffe  ? 
The  oaks  of  the  mountains  fall:  the  mountains  them- 
felves  decay  with  years;  the  ocean  fhrinks  and  grows 
again:  the  moon  herfelf  is  loft  in  heaven;  but  thou 
art  for  ever  the  fame;  rejoicing  in  the  brightnefs  of  thy 
eourfe.  When  the  world  is  dark  with  tempefls  ;  when 
thunder  rolls,  and  I'glitning  dies;  thou  looked  in  thy 
beauty,  from  the  clouds^  pud  laugheft  at  the  ftorm. 
But  to  Off  an,  thou  lookell  in  vain  ;  for  he  beholds  thy 
learns  no  more;  whether  thy  yellow  hair  flows  on  the 
eafurn  clouds,  or  thou  tremblelt  at  the  ga^es  of  the 
well.  Bui  thou  art  perhaps,  like  me,  for  a  feafon,  and 
thy  years  will  have  an  end.  Thou  fhalt  fleep  in  thy 
clouds,  carelefs  of  the  voice  of  the  morning. 


A   POEM.  I/ 

then,  O  fun,  in  the  ftrength  of  thy  youth  !  Age  is  dark 
and  unlovely;  it  is  like  the  glimmering  light  of  the 
moon,  when  it  fhines  through  broken  clouds,  and  the 
mift  is  on  the  hills;  the  blaft  of  the  north  is  on  the 
plain,  the  traveller  lhrinks  in  the  midlt  pf  his  journey. 


THS 

DEATH  OF  CUCHULLIN: 

A    POEM. 

THE   ARGUMENT. 


V.  hich  -  few  old  people  in  the  north  of  Scotland  retain  on  memory. 

Ts  the  wind  on  Fingal's  fhield?  Or  is  the  voice  of  paft 
*  times  in  my  hall?  Sing  on,  fweet  voice,  for  thou  art 
pleafant,  and  carrieft  away  ray  night  with  joy.  Sing 
on,  O  Bragcia,  daughter  ot  car-borne  Sorglan! 

««  It  is  the  white  wave  of  the  rock,  and  not  Cuchul- 
lin's  fails.  Often  do  the  rnifts  deceive  me  for  the  ftlip 
of  my  icve!  when  they  rife  round  fome  ghoft,  and 
fpread  their  gray  fkirts  'on  the  wind.  Why  doit  thou 
delay  thy  coming,  fan  of  the  generous  Setno  ?  Four 
times  has  autumn  relumed  with  its  winds,  and  raifed 
the  ieas  of  Togonna  f,  iince  thou  haft  been  in  the  rear 

+  Togorma,  i.  c  the  ifland  of  blue  waves,  one  of  the  Hebrides,  was  fuojea  to 

Coiinai,U:e  !'.--nu'C^Ht!>::l,   C'-TdiulIii.-s  ;"i-ie-.'d.     ;;■••  i  ■    ■ 

•f  Culg»r,  from  uiieoi  Aiui  imm:i  who  v. us  cue  fuuuder  of  tie  lumiiy.    Coaiiitl,  » 


A  POFM.  .If) 

of  battles)  and  Bragela  diftant  hr.  IT;".«  of  the  ifle  of 
tnift!  when  wiU  ye  anfwer  to  hi9  hounds?  But  ye. arc 
dark  in  your  clouds,  and  fad  Bragcla  calls  in  vain. 
Night  conies  rolling  down:  the  face  of  ocean  fails. 
The  heath-cock's  head  is  beneath  his  wing:  the  hind 
fh  <  j,s  with  the  hart  of  the  defert.  They  ihall  rife  with 
the  morning's  light,  and  feed  on  the  mofly  ftream. 
But  my  tears  return  with  the  fun,  my  fighs  come  on 
with  the  night.     When  wilt  thou  eome  in  thine  arms, 

0  chief  of  mofly  Tura?'' 

Pleafant  is  thy  voice  in  Offian'sear,  daughter  of  car- 
borne  Sorglan!  but  retire  to  the  hall  of  Ihellsj  to  the 
beam  of  the  burning  oak.  Attend  to  the  murmur  of 
the  fea;  it  rolls  at  Dimfcaich's  walls :  let  fleep  defcend 
on  thy  blue  eyes,  and  the  hero  conic  to  thy  dreams. 

Cuchullin  fits  at  Lego's  lake,  at  the  dark  roiling  of 
waters.  Night  is  around  the  hero;  and  his  thoufands 
fpread  on  the  heath:  a  hundred  oaks  burn  in  the  mfdft; 
the  feail  of  fhells  is  fmoking  wide.  Carril  flakes  the 
harp  beneath  a  tree;  his  gray  locks  glitter  in  the  beam; 
the  rufli"  g  blaft  of  night  is  near,  and  lifts  his  aged  hair. 

1  lis  fong  is  of  the  blue  Togorraa,  and  of  its  chief,  Cu- 
chullin  s  friend.  "  Why  art  thou  abfent,  Connal,  in 
the  day  of  the  gloomy  ftorrn  ?  The  chiefs  of  the  fouth 
have  convened  againft  the  car  borne  Cprmac :  the 
winds  detain  thy  fails,  and  thy  bine  waters  roll  around 
thee.  ButCormacis  not  alone:  the  fon  of :Semo  fights 
his  battles.  Semo's  fen  his  battles  fights :  the  tenor 
of  the  ftranger!  he  that  is  like  the  vapour  of  death, 
flov/Iy  borne  by  fuitry  winds.  The  fun  reddens  in  its 
prefence,  the  people  fall  around." 

Such  was  the  long  of  Carril,  when  a  fon  of  the  foe 
appeared  ;  he  threw  down  his  pointlels  fpear,  and  fpoke 
the  m  0.1  <hs  of  Torlath ;  Tcrlath  the  chief  of  heroes,  from 
Lego's  fable  furge  :  he  that  led  his  thoufands  to 
aganill  car-borne  Cormac;  Cormac,  who  was  diflant 

f'.re  the  r.ew  of  Torlath's  revnlt  came  to  T^i-.io™,  b?A  fa:'-c!  n  To. 


20  THE  DEATH  OF  CUCHULLINt 

far,  in  Temora's  f  echoing  halls :  he  learned  to  hend  the 
bow  of  his  fathers ;  and  to  lift  the  fpear.  Nor  long 
didft  thou  lift  the  fpear,  mildly-fliining  beam  of  youth! 
death  ftands  dim  behind  thee,  like  the  darkened  half  of 
the  moon  behind  its  growing  light.  Cuchullin  rofe  be- 
fore the  bard  ||,  that  came  from  generous  Torlath  ;  he 
offered  him  the  fhell  of  joy,  and  honoured  the  fon  of 
fongs.  "Sweet  voice  of  Lego!"  he  faid,  "  what  are 
the  words  of  Torlath  ?  Comes  he  to  our  feaft  or  battle, 
the  car -borne  fen  of  Cantelaf  ?" 

"  He  comes  to  thy  battle,"  replied  the  bard,  "  to  the 
founding  ftrife  of  fpears.  When  morning  is  gray  on 
Lego,  Torlath  will  fight  on  the  plain :  and  wilt  thou 
meet  him,  in  thine  arms,  king  of  the  ifie  of  mift?  Ter- 
rible is  the  fpear  of  Torlath!  it  is  a  meteor  of  night. 
He  lifts  it,  and  the  people  fall:  death  fits  in  the  light- 
ning of  his  iwcrd."  "  Do  I  fear,"  replied  Cuchuilin, 
"  the  fpear  of  car-borne  Torlath  ?  He  is  brave  as  a 
thoufand  heroes ;  but  my  foul  delights  in  war.  The 
fword  refts  not  by  the  fide  of  Cuchullin,  bard  of  the 
times  of  old!  Morning  fhall  meet  me  on  the  pkiin,  and 
gleam  on  the  blue  arms  of  Semo's  fen.  But  fit  thou 
en  the  heath,  O  bard !  and  let  us  hear  thy  voice  :  par- 
take of  the  joyful  (hell :  and  hear  the  fongs  of  Temo- 
ra." 

"  This  is  no  time,"  replied  the  bard,  "  to  hear  the 
fong  of  joy;  when  the  mighty  are  to  meet  in  battle  like 
the  ftrength  of  the  waves  of  Lego.  Why  art  thou  fo 
dark,  Slimora  ||  || !  with  an  thy  filent  woods?  No  green 
frar  trembles  on  thy  top;  no  moon-beam  on  thy  fide; 
But  the  meteors  of  death  are  there,  and  the  gray  wa- 
try  forms  of  ghofts.     Why  art  thou  dark,  Slimora  ! 

The  rnyal  palace  of  the  Irifh  kins?;   Tesmhrath  according  to  fame  of  the 

■   '  h-   '  .    Is  were    hehei    Id  i  of  ancient  times;   and  their  perfons  were  r<  :td 

on  .  .      .  ■  ■■     :  ■  .  '•  "   ■  ...   s  ■.:■  .1  •■  :!.  .  ... 

p.-r,"..n.  v  ,.••'.'.  r  ,■■•■.,.'■      .  :.:-.■         ■    e 

the  cir.ii.  •  ; .-. .  -.  ii.l     ,j  niv  u'ji.lcd  the  enemy  when  He  would  neiuu:ei't 


A   POEM.  21 

with  thy  filent  woods  ?"  He  retired,  in  the  found  of  his 
fong  ;  Carril  accompanied  his  voice.  The  mufic  was 
like  the  memory  qf  joys  that  are  pad,  pleafant  and 
mournful  to  the  foul.  The  ghofts  of  departed  bards 
heard  it  from  Slimqra's  fide.  Soft  founds  fpread  alone; 
the  wood,  arid  the  filent  valleys  of  night  rejoice.  So, 
when  he  fits  in  the  filence  of  noon,  in  the  valley  of  his 
breeze,  the  bumming  of  the  mountain  bee  coir..-?  to 
Ofiian's  ear:  the  gale  drowns  it  often  in  its  courfe1; 
bat  the  pleafant  found  returns  again. 

"  Raife,"  feid  CuchiiUin,  to  his  hundred  bards,  "  the 
fimg  of  the  noble  Fingal :  that  long  which  he  hears  at 
night,  when  the  dreams  of  his  reft  defeend;  when 
the  bards  llrike  the  diftant  harp,  and  the  faint  light 
gleams  on  Selraa'a  walls.  Or  let  the  grief  of  Lara  rife, 
and  the  fighs  of  the  mother  of  Calmart,  when  he  was 
fought,  in  vain,  on  his  hills  ;  and  lhe  beheld  his  bow  in 
the  hall.  Carril,  place  the  fliield  of  Caithbat  on  that 
branch  ;  and  let  the  fpear  of  Cuchuiiin  be  near  ;  that 
the  found  of  my  battle  may  rife  with  the  gray  beam  of 
the  eaft."  The  hero  leaned  on  his  father's  fhieid  :  the 
fong  of  Lara  rofe.  The  hundred  bards  were,  diftant 
far :  Carril  alone  is  near  the  chief.  The  words  of  the 
fong  were  his  ;  and  the  found  of  his  harp  was  mourn- 
ful: 

"  Alcletha  I]  with  the  aged  locks  !  mother  of  car- 
borne  Calmar!  why  doit  thou  look  towards  the  defert, 
to  behold  the  return  of  thy  fon  ?  Thefe  are  nor.  his  he- 
roes, dark  on  the  hea'.h  :  nar  is  that  the  voice  of  Cal- 
mar :  it  is  but  the  diftant  grove,  Alcletha  !  but  the  roar 
of  the  mountain-wind  \"     What  bounds  over  Lara's 

Vol.  II.  C 

i  Calmar  the  fon  of  M  it  ha.  US'  .'cath  i.  r:Vre,',  at  >ar;.e  ,".  t!-/?  thirl  bu>k  of. 
'  '.    iM-tiii-un'r,    Cnn    n*  v,.i:;.i:    ,i:u!    th«::  unity    .n.   svijutin  iiir.j. 

Wsmiifi a 

.   . 

•••  ,.n 

.  -     .  '         ■:'!-..  .     6  sjy«)  the.  moth.-.- 

X     V  :..'   .i      ■     ...  .       C    '-    '  ■•    n  ■  .    •      ■  :  '  tO  "         -        '   ."  ••.        .      pi)    .'..    . 

mother  and  hi*  fl.ler  A  lima  are  •.(•;■  e'".-u..rt  hy  the  b.i    .  ;■■■  \<t  :ifc>.';„  wi.. 

inerwhjre  Li.ey  o.p;w.tcJ  CU:;i4r  w(U»Ai!  i;..-,.:s  1-. 


1Z  THE  DEATH  OF  Ct'CHttLLIS  t 

ftream,  Gfter  of  the  noble  Calmar  ?  Does  not  Alele'tha 
behold  his  fpear  ?  But  her  eyes  are  dim  !  Is  it  not  the 
fon  of  Matha,  daughter  of  my  love  ?" 

"  It  is  but  an  aged  oak,  Alcletha  !"  replied  the  love- 
ly weeping  Alona  ff.  "  It  is  but  an  oak,  Alclctha,  bent 
over  Lara's  ftrtam.  But  who  comes  along  the  plain  ? 
forrow  is  in  his  fpeed".  He  lifts  high  the  fpear  of  Cal- 
rnar.  Alclctha  !  it  is  covered  with  blood  :"  "But  it  is 
covered  with  the  blood  of  foes  f,  filter  of  car-borne 
Calmar!  his  fpear  never  returned  unftamed  wkh  blood, 
nor  his  bow  from  the  ftrife  of  the  mighty.  The  bat- 
tle is  confumed  in  his  prefence  :  he  is  a  flame  of  death, 
Alona  !  Youth  ||  of  the  mournful  fpeed  !  where  is  the 
Jon  ef  Alclctha  I  Does  he  return  with  his  fame  ?  in 
the  midll  of  his  echoing  Ihielcls  :  Thou  art  dark  and 
filent !  Calmar  is  then  no  more.  Tell  me  not,  warri- 
or, I  civ  he  fdLjor  J  canncrt  hear  of  h:S  icound.'^ 

"  Why  doll  thou  look  towards  the  defert,  mother  of 
car-horne  Calmar  :" 

Such  was  the  fong  of  Carril,  when  Cnchuliin.  lay  on 
his  feield :  the  bards  relied  on  their  harps,  and 
fleep  fell  foftly  around.  The  fon  of  Semo  was  awake 
alone  ;  his  foul  was  fixed  on  the  war.  The  burning 
oaks  began  to  decay  •  faint  red  light  is  fprtad  around. 
A  feeble  voice  is  heard!  the  ghoft  of  Calmar  came, 
lie  fialked  in  the  beam.  Dark  is  the  wound  in  his 
fide.  Ills  hair  is  difordered  and  loofe,  Joy  fits  darkly 
on  his  face :  and  he  feems  to  invite  Cuckullin  to  his 
cave. 

"  Son  of'the  cloudy  night  V*  faid  the  rifing  chief  of 
Erin  :  "Why  doft  thoubendthy  dark  eyes  on  me,  ghoft 
of  the  car-borne  Calmar  ?  Wouldeft  thou  frighten  me, 
O  Matha's  fon  !  from  the  battle?  of  Cormac  ?  Thy 
hand  was  not  feeble  in  war  ;  neither  w.~.s  thy  voice  f 
for  peace.     IIow  art  thou  chungetij  chief  of  Lara  !  if 

-  ■■  /  '  ■;-!•.  <  c-.-^uiSteliy  beaotSftl.' 
i   1  le!<  tha  Coeafcs. 

:o  Larnir,Calm;  r's  frier,''.-  -.voc  had  returned  with  OSt 

Bthefirftbookof  Fincil. 


A  POEM.  »j 

tnou  now  doft  advife  to  fly !  But,  Calmar,  I  never  fled. 
I  never  feared  f  the  ghoft  of  tbedefert.  Small  is  their 
knowledge,  and  weak  their  hands;  their  dwelling  is  ia 
-the  wind.  But  my  foal  grows  in  danger,  and  rejoices 
in  the  noife  of  fteel.  Retire  thou  to  thy  cave  ;  thou  art 
not  Cahnar's  ghoft ;  he  delighted  in  battle,  and  his 
arm  was  like  the  thunder  of  heaven/' 

He  retired  in  his  biaft  with  joy,  for  he  had  heard  the 
voice  of  his  praife.  The  faint  beam  of  the  morning 
rofe,  and  the  found  of  Caithbat's  buckler  fpread. 
Green  Uliin's  warriors  convened,  like  the  rear  of  ma- 
ny ftreams.  The  horn  of  war  is  heard  over  Lego  ;  the 
mighly  Tcrlath  came. 

"  Why  doft  thou  come  with  thy  rhoufands,  Cu- 
chullm,"  faid  the  chief  of  Lege.  "  I  know  the  ftrength 
•of  thy  arm,  and  thy  foul  is  an  unextinguished  fire. 
Why  fight  we  not  on  the  plain,  and  let  our  hofts  be- 
hold our  deeds  ?  Let  them  behold  us  like  roaring 
waves,  that  tumble  round  a  rock  :  the  mariners  haften 
away,  and  look  on  their  firife  with  fear." 

"  Thou  riicft,  like  the  fun,  on  my  foul,"  replied  the 
fon  of  Semo.  "  Thine  aim  is  mighty,  O  Torlath  ; 
and  worthy  of  my  wrath.  Retire,  ye  men  of  Ullin,  to 
JSlimora's  fhady  fide  ;  behold  the  chief  of  Erin,  in  the 
day  of  his  fame.  Carril ;  tell  to  mighty  Ccnnal,  if 
Cuchullin  muft  fall,  tell  him  I  accufed  trie  winds  which 
roar  on  Togorma's  waves.  Never  was  he  abfent  in 
battle,  when  the  ftrii'e  of  my  fame  arofe.  Let  this 
fword  be  before  Cormac,  like  the  beam  of  heaven  : 
let  his  coujifel  found  in  Temora  in  the  day  of  danger." 

He  rufhed,  in  the  found  of  his  arms,  like  the  terri- 
ble fpirit  -of  Loda  Jj ,  when  he  comes  in  the  roar  of  a 
thoufand  ftorms,  and  fcatters  battles  from  his  eyes.  He 
fits  on  a  cloud  over  Lochlin's  feas :  his  mighty  hand  is 
on  his  fword,  and  the  winds  lift  his  flaming  locks.  So 
C  2 

f  SeeCuchullin's  reply  to  Cor.na!,  concerning  Crugal'jfjhoft.     Fins  B.I1. 

..  :  ..e  thirrt  ti.iok  of  1'inja!,  i^  r.isntiuneM  asa  place  of  wonhiy  in  Scan. 
«l',iia>  ia  ;  by  the  IpTrit  o:  Luda,  tjc  pact  probably  meau;  (Jiiin,  the  gr«t  duty  if 
tlie  lioitiitra  nations. 


24  THE  DEATH  OF  CUCHULLIK: 

terrible  was  Cuchullin  in  the  day  of  his  fame.  Tor- 
lath  fell  by  his  hand,  and  Lego's  heroes  mourned. 
They  gather  around  the  chief  like  the  clouds  of  the  de- 
fert.  A  thoufand  fwords  rofe  at  once  ;  a  thoufand  ar- 
rows flew  ;  but  he  flood  like  a  rock  in  the  midfl  of 
a  roaring  fea.  They  fell  around  ;  he  itrode  in  blood  : 
dark  Slimora  echoed  wide.  The  fons  of  Ullin  came, 
and  the  battle  fpread  over  Lego.  The  chief  of  Erin 
overcame  ;  he  returned  over  the  field  with  his  fame. 
But  pale  here-turned!  The  joy  of  his  face  was  dark. 
He  rolled  his  eyes  in  fiience.  The  fword  hung,  un- 
fheathed,  in  his  hand,  and  his  fpear  bent  at  every  ftep. 

"  Carri!-/'  faid  the  king  in  lecret,  "  the  ftrength  of 
Cuchullin  fails.  My  clays  are  with  the  years  that  are 
paft :  and  no  mourning  of  mine  fhall  arife.  They 
fhall  feek  meat  Temora,  but  I  fhall  not  be  found.  Cor- 
jnac  will  weep  in  his  hall,  and  fay  "  Where  is  Tura's 
chief  ?"  But  my  name  is  renowned  !  my  fame  in  the 
fong-  cf  bards.  The  youth  will  fay  in  fecret,  "O  let 
me  die  as  Ctichulliri  died;  renown  clothed  him  like  a 
robe  ;  and  the  light  of  his  fame  is  great."  Draw  the 
arrow  from  my  fide  ;  and  lay  Cuchullin  beneath  that 
oak.  Place  the  fhield  of  Caithbat  near,  that  they  may 
behold  me  amidft  the  arms  of  my  fathers." 

"  And  is  the  ion  of  Semo  fallen  ?"  faid  Carril  with  a 
figh.  "  Mournful  are  1  ura's  walls;  and  forrow  dwells 
at  Dunfcaich.  Thy  fpoufe  is  left  alone  in  her  youth, 
the  fon  T  of  thy  love  is  alone.  He  fhall  come  to  Bra- 
ge  a,  and  afk  her  why  fhe  weeps.  He  fhall  lift  his  eyes 
tchhe  wall,  and  fee  his  father's  fword.  "  Whofe 
fword  is  that  V  he  will  fay :  and  the  foul  of  his  mo- 
ther is  fad.  Who  is  that  like  the  hart  of  the  defert,  in 
the  murmur  of  hiscourfe  ?  His  eyes  look  wildly  round 
in  fearch  of  his  friend.  Connal,  fon  of  Cohjar,  where 
haft  thou  been,  when  tfie  mighty  fell  ?  Did  the  feas  of 


II  Conloch,who  was  after*  arils  very    famous  for   bis  great  exploits  in  Ireland. 
He  h -a.-,  l'.-j  re;:., -irkable  inr  his  dexterity  in  lianilli.n:  the  javcJn,  that  «  hen  a  good 

ii    -kiii.-n  initiaibn!.  it  :.is  puffed  Uito  a  proverb,  iu  tie  aoyi  of  Scotland, 'Ue 

.       •■■  :  .u  i;aitix  annul  Conloiii.' 


A  POEM.  %$ 

Togorma  roll  round  thee  ?  Was  the  wind  of  the  fouth 
in  thy  fails?  The  mighty  have  fallen  m  battle,  and  thou 
waft  not  there.  Let  nore  tell  it  in  Stlma,  nor  in  Mor- 
ven's  woody  land  ;  Fingal  will  be  fad,  and  the  funs  of 
the  defert  mourn." 

By  the  dark-rolling  waves  of  Lego  they  raifed  the  he- 
ro's tomb.  Luathfj  »*  a  diftance,  lies,  the  compani- 
on of  Curhullin,  at  the  chafe. 

"  Blcft'j  be  thy  foul,  fon  of  Semo;  thou  wert  ntighty 
in  battle.  Thy  itrength  was  like  the  ftrength  of  a 
flream:  thy  fpeed  like  the  eagle's  wing.  Thy  path  in  i\  e 
battle  w as  terrible  :  the  ileps  of  death  were  behind  thy 
fwcrd.  Bleft  be  thy  foul,  fon  of  Semo ;  car-borne 
chief  of  Dnnfcaich  !  Thou  haft  not  fallen  by  the  i'word 
of  the  mighty,  neither  was  thy  blood  on  the  fpear  of 
the  valiant.  The  arrow  came,  like  the  fling  of  death 
in  a  blaft :  nor  did  the  feeble  hand,  which  drew  the 
bow,  perceive  it.  S*eace  to  thy  foul,  in  thy  cave,  chief 
of  the  hie  of  mift ! 

"  The  mighty  are  difperfed  at  Ternora  :  there  is 
none  in  Ccrmac's  hall.  The  king  mourns  in  his  youth, 
for  he  does  not  behold  thy  coming.  The  found  of  thy 
.  Ihield  is  ceafed  :  his  iocs  are  gathering  round.  Soft  be 
thy  reft  in  thy  cave,  chief  of  Erin's  wars  !  Bragcla  will 
not  hope  thy  return,  or  fee  thy  fails  in  ocean's  mam. 
Her  fteps  are  not  on  the  fhore  :  nor  her  ear  open  to  the 
voice  of  thy  rowers.  She  fits  in  the  hall  offheils>and 
fees  the  arms  of  him  that  is  no  more.  Thine  eves  are 
fall  of  tears,  daughter  of  car  borne  Sorglan  !  Bleft  be 
thy  foul  in  death,  O  chief  of  fhady  Cromla  !" 
C  3 


•s  tomb.  Every  ftanza  clofc* 
:vs  always  the  coftotn  in  tuneral 
:,  anil  ;t  v. as  o!  old  futig  tu  :-.A 


DAR-THUL  A: 

A     POEM. 


THE   ARGUMENT, 
e,  to  give  the  ftory  «  hjcti  Is  the  foundation  of  thi<  po- 
i>;'  trauitii.n.     Uinoth,  lord  t>t  Etna,  which  is   prnba- 

-.    \  .  .•      Vdan,  by  >J'iT.:ma,  the  daughter  of 

celebrated   Cuchuliin.       The  three   brothers,    when 
.-,■-■■   ■,,    Ireland,   by  their   father,  to   learn   the   life 


ed  herfelX  upeo  the  body  of  her  beloved 

edtwsth;  death  of  the  Tons  of  UCuoth, 
aafTed  before  V.-z  rectus  tbe  death  of 
iradition  ;   lis  uc   ouiit  u,  the  nioit  pro. 


T"\ AUG hter  of  heaven  f,  fair  art  thou  !  the  filence 
***  of  thy  face  is  pleafant.  Thou  comeii  forth  in  love- 
linefe  :  the  ftars  attend  thy  blue  Heps  in  the  eaft.  The 
clouds  rejoice  in  thy  prefence,  O  moon,  and  brighten 
their  dark  brown  fides.  Who  is  like  thee  in  heaven, 
daughter  of  the  night  ?  The  ftars  are  afhamed  in  thy 
prefence,  and  turn  afide  their  green,  fparkling  eyes. 
Whither  doft  thou  retire  from  thy  courfe,  when  the 
darknefs '[}  of  thy  countenance  grows?  Haft- thou. thy 
hall  like  Oman?  Bwelleft  thou  in  the  fhadow  of  grief  ? 
Have  thy  fillers  fallen  from  heaven  ?  Are  they  who  re- 
joiced with  thee,  at  night,  no  more  ?  Yes  !  they  have. 

tTheadclrefctothe  moon  is  very  beautiful  in  the  original.    It  i..  in  a  lyric  me*. 

i  .re,  and  a^rr?:-  ;o  have  been  l'ini;  to  the  harp, 
f:  file  pott  means  tUi  moon  in  her  wane. 


A    POEM.  If 

i    fallen,  fair  light  !  and  thou  doit  often  retire  to  mourn. 

1  But  thou  thyfelf  fhalt  fail,  one  night  ;  and  leave  thy 
blue  oath  in  heaven.  The  ftars  will  then  lift  their 
green  heads:   they  \t  h  ned  in  thy  prefence, 

will  rejoice.     Thou  art  n&w      •  h  thy  bright- 

nefs :  look  from  thy  gates  in  the  Iky      Btrrft  the  cloud, 
O  wind,  that  the  daughter  ok  forth, 

that  the  ftiaggy  mountains  rhay  brighten,  and  the  ocean 
roll  its  blue  waves  in  light. 

Nathos  f  is  on  the  deep,  and  Althos  that  beam  of 
youth  ;  Ardari  is  near  his  brothers  ;  they  move  in  the 
gloom  of  their  courfe.  The  foris  of  Ufhoth  move  in 
darknefs,  from  the  wrath  of  car  borne  Cairbar  |j .  "Who 
if  that  dim,  by  their  fide  ?  the  night  has  covered  her 
beauty.  Her  hair  fighs  en  ocean's  wind;  her  robe 
flreams  in  dufky  wreaths.  She  is  like  the  fair  fpirit  of 
heaven,  in  the  midft  of  his  fhadowy  mill.  Who  is  it 
but  Dar-thula IT,  the  firit  of  Erin's  maids?  She  has  fled 
from  the  love  of  Cairbar,  with  the  car-borne  Nathos. 
But  the  winds  deceive  thee,  O  Daf-thula  ;  and  deny 
the  woody  Etha  to  thy  falls.  Theie  are  not  thy  moun- 
tains, Nathos,  nor  is  that  the  roar  of  thy  climbing 
Waves.  1  he  halls  of  Cairbar  are  near;  and  the  towers 
of  the  fee  lift  their  heads.  Ullin  ftretches  its  green 
bead  into  the  lea  ;  and  Tura's  bay  receives  the  fhip. 
"Where  have  ye  been,  ye  fouthern  winds  !  when  the 
fens  of  my  love  were  deceived?  But  ye  have  been  fport- 
ing  on  plains,  and  purfuing  the  thiftle's  beard.  O  that 
ye  had  been  milling  in  the  fails  of  Nathos,  till  the  hills 
of  Etha  rofe  !  till  they  rofe  in  their  clouds,  and  faw 
their  coming  chief!  ling  hail  thou  been  anient,  Na- 
thos !  and  the  day  of  thy  return  is  paft. 

But  the  land  of  firnngers  faw  thee,  lovely  :  thou  waft 
lovely  in  the  eyes  of  Dar  thula.     Thy  face  was  like  the 

t  Nathos  fignifiesyouthfel ;   Ailthos,  'exquifite  beauty  ;•  Ardan, '  pride.' 
|!  Cairbar,  m  bo  inude.-ed  Conniu  kir.R  oi  Ireland,  and  ui'tirp  d  the  throne.     He 
was  afterwards  killed  by  »>!'cir  [be  j'unui  Oman  m  a  iin;;lc  combat.     The  pott, up- 
on other  o»  al'.oi. .,  une,  him  'he  epithet  of  red-haired. 

X  LMi-thtila,  or  Birt-'hrnle.  !  u  \v..i:ia>»  with  li;.e  eyes.'  She  was  the  mofl  fa- 
mous beauty  oi  .sntiejiiitv.  To  this  day,  v.  hen  a  woman  i;  piail'cd  fctl  her  beauty, 
tic  couuuun  prorate  it,  that  ;  lite  Ua*lo'.tly  ai  Dar-ihula.' 


28  BAR-THULA: 

light  of  the  morning,  thy  hair  like  the  raven's  wing. 
Thy  foul  was  generous  and  mild,  like  the  hour  of  the 
fetting  fun.  Thy  words  were  the  gale  of  the  reeds,  or 
the  gliding  ftream  of  Lora.  But  when  the  rage  of  battle 
rofe,  thou  waft  like  a  fea  in  a  florin  ;  the  clang  of  arms 
was  terrible  :  the  holt  vanifhed  at  the  {bund  of  thy 
courfe.  It  was  then  Dar-thula  beheld  thee,  from  the 
top  of  her  moily  tower  :  from  the  tower  of  Stlama  f, 
where  her  fathers  dwelt. 

"  Lovely  art  thou,  O  ftranger  !"  {he  faid,  for  her 
trembling  foul  arofe.  "Fair  art  thou  in  thy  battles, friend 
of  the  fallen  Cormac  || !  Why  dolt  thou  rulh  on,  in  thy 
valour,  youth  of  the  ruddy  look  ?  Few  are  thy  hands, 
in  battle,  againft  the  car-borne  Cairbar !  O  that 
I  might  be  freed  of  his  'jve  1  !  that  I  might  rejoice 
in  the  prefence  of  Nathos  !  Eleft  are  the  rocks  of  Etha ; 
they  will  behold  his  fteps  at  the  chafe  !  they  will  fee 
his  white  bofom,  when  the  winds  lift  his  raven  hair  i" 

Such  were  thy  words,  Dar  thula,  in  Setama's  mof- 
fy  towers.  But,  now,  the  night  is  round  thee  :  and  the 
winds  have  deceived  thy  fails.  The  winds  have  deceiv- 
ed thy  fails,  Dar-thula  :  their  bluftering  found  is  high. 
Ceafe  a  little  while,  O  north  wind,  and  let  me  hear  the 
voice  of  the  lovely.  Thy  voice  is  lovely,  Dar-thula, 
between  the  ruftling  blafts. 

"  Are  thefe  the  rooks  of  Nathos,  and  the  roar  of  hi6 
mountain-ftreams  ?  Comes  that  beam  of  light  from  Uf- 
noth's  nightly  hall  ?  The  ihift  rolls  around,  and  the 
beam  is  feeble  ;  but  the  light  of  Dar  thula's  foul  is  the 
car-borne  chief  of  Etha  !  Son  of  the  generous  Ufnoth, 
why  that  broken  %h  :  Are  we  not  in  the  land  of  {Iran- 
gtrr.,  chief  of  echoing  Etha  ?" 

"  Thefe  are  not  the  rocks  of  Nathos,"  he  replied, 
«'  nor  the  roar  of  his  f  beams.     No  light  comes  from 

SeUnwi  wtrteh  is  mentioned  as  the  feat  of  Tofcar 

a;i1  Cull, •>»;..     Tliev.rJ  ir.  l'ie  ordinal  fifiiiifies 
■tat  e  with  a  uterif-iiit  or  wide  profuecY     In  ti,ofe 


A    POEM.  29 

Etha's  halls,  for  they  an?  diftant  far.  We  are  in  the 
land  of  ftrangers,  in  the  land  of  ear-bo/ne  Cairbar.  The 
winds  have  deceived  us,  Dar-thula.  UIH11  lifts  here  her 
green  hills.  Go  towards  the  north,  Althos  ;  be  thy 
fteps,  Ardan,  along  the  coaft  ;  that  the  foe  may  not 
come  in  darknefs,  and  our  hopes  of  Etha  fail.  I  will 
go  towards  that  inofly  tower,  and  fee  who  dwells  about 
the  beam.  Reft,  Darthula,  on  the  more  !  reft  in 
peace,  thou  beam  of  light !  the  (word  of  Nathos  is  a- 
round  thee,  like  the  lightning  of  heaven." 

He  went.  She  fat  alone  and  heard  the  rolling  of  the 
wave.  The  big  cear  is  in  her  eye  ;  and  flie  looks  for 
the  car- borne  Nathos.  Her  foul  trembles  at  the  blaft. 
And  fhe  turns  her  ear  towards  the  tread  o(  his  feet. 
The  tread  of  his  feet  is  not  heard.  "  Where  art 
thou,  fon  of  my  love  ?  the  roar  of  the  blaft  is  around  me. 
Dark  is  the  cloudy  night.  But  Nathos  does  not  return. 
What  detains  thee,  chief  of  Etha  ?  Have  the  foes  met 
the  hero  in  the  ftrife  of  the  night  ?" 

He  returned,  but  his  face  was  dark  :  he  had  feen  his 
departed  friend.  It  was  the  wall  of  Tura,  and  the  ghoft 
of  Cuch  liin  ftalked  there.  The  fighing  of  his  breaft 
was  frequent  ;  and  the  decayed  flame  of  his  eyes  terri- 
ble. His  fpear  was  a  column  of  mift  :  the  liars  looked 
dim  through  his  form.  His  voice  was  like  hollow  wind 
in  a  cave :  and  he  told  the  tale  of  grief.  The  foul  of 
Nathos  was  fad,  like  the  fun  in  the  day  of  mift,  when 
his  face  is  watry  and  dim. 

"  Why  art  thou  fad,  O  Nathos  ?"  faid  the  lovely 
daughter  of  Colla.  "  Thou  art  a  pillar  of  light  to  Dar- 
thula :  the  joy  of  her  eyes  is  in  Etha's  chief.  Where 
is  my  friend,  but  Nathos  ?  My  father  refts  in  the  tomb. 
Silence  dwells  on  Selama:  fadnefs  fpreads  on  the  blue 
ftreams  of  my  land.  My  friends  have  fallen,  with  Cor- 
mac.     The  mighty  were  flain  in  the  battle  of  UUin. 

"  Evening  darkened  on  the  plain.  The  blue  ftreams 
failed  before  mine  eyes.  The  unfrequent  blaft  came 
ruftlhig  in  the  tops  of  Selama's  groves.  My  feat  was 
beneath  a  tree  on  the  walls  of  my  fathers.     Truthil 


3©  DAR-THULA: 

paft  before  my  foul ;  the  brother  of  my  love  ;  he  that 
was  abiint  f  in  battle  againft  the  car-borne  Cairbar. 
Bending  on  his  fpear,  the  gray-haired  Colla  came  :  his 
downcaft  face  is  dark,  and  forrow  dwells  in  his  foul. 
His  fword  is  on  the  fide  of  the  hero :  the  helmet  of  his 
fathers  on  his  head.  The  battle  grows  in  his  breaft. 
He  ftrives  to  hide  the  tear. 

"  Dar-thula,"  he  fighing  faid,  "  thou  art  the  laflof 
Colla's  race.  Truthil  is  fallen  in  battle.  The  king  j] 
of  Selama  is  no  more.  Cairbar  comes,  with  his  thou- 
fands,  towards  Selama's  walls.  Colla  will  meet  his  pride, 
and  revenge  his  fon.  But  where  fhall  I  find  thy  fafety, 
Dar-thula  with  the  dark-brown  hair  ?  tliou  art  lovely 
as  the  fun-beam  of  heaven,  and  thy  friends  are  low ! 
"  And  is  the  fon  of  battle  fallen  ?"  I  faid  with  a  burft- 
ing  figh.  "  Ceafed  the  generous  foul  of  Truthil  to 
lighten  through  the  field  ?  My  fafety,  Coila,  is  in  that 
bow  ;  I  have  learned  to  pierce  the  deer.  Is  not  Cair- 
bar like  the  hart  of  the  deiert,  father  of  fallen  Tru- 
thil ?" 

The  face  of  age  brightened  with  joy :  and  the  crowd- 
ed tears  of  his  eyes  poured  down.  The  lips  of  Coila 
trembled.  His  gray  beard  whiflled  in  the  blaft.  "  Thou 
art  the  filter  of  Truthil,"  he  faid  ;  "  thou  burneft  in  the 
fire  of  his  foul.  Take,  Dar-thula,  take  that  fpear,  that 
brazen  fhield,  that  burnifhed  helmet;  they  are  the  fpoils 
of  a  warrior  :  a  fon  1  of  early  youth.  When  the  light 
riles  on  Selama,  we  go  to  meet  the  car-borne  Cair- 
bar. But  keep  thou  near  the  arm  of  Colla  ;  beneath 
the  fhadow  of  my  fhield.  Thy  father,  Dar-thula,  could 
once  defend  thee,  but  age  is  trembling  on  his  hand. 
The  flrength  of  his  arm  has  failed,  and  his  foul  is  dark- 
ened with  grief." 

We  palled  the  night  in  forrow.     The  light  of  morn- 

+  The  family  of  Coila  preferved  their  loyalty  to  Corr.iac  long  after  the  death  of 
Cuehuliin. 

||  It  is  very  common,  in  OlTian's  poetry,  to  give  the  title  of  kins  to  every  chief 
thar  «•;;.■,  remarkable  for  hi .  va  our. 

11  The  poet  to  make  the  It  pry  of  Dar-thula's  .inning  hcrOlf  for  battle,  m  ire  pro- 
bable, make=  her  armour-tone  rhat  of  a  verv  vning  man,  othcrwife  h  would  litoi'lc 
•21  belief,  that  flic,  who  was,  very  yowijj,  ih',.uM  ke  ab.c  tn  c»rry  iu 


A    POEM.  *| 

ing  rofe.  I  fhene  in  the  arms  of  battle.  The  gray- 
J.aircii  hero  mo\  ed  before.  The  fons  of  Selama  conven- 
ed around  the  founding  fhield  of  Colla.  But  few  were 
thev  in  the  plain,  and  their  locks  were  gray.  The 
youths  had  fallen  with  Truthil,  in  the  battle  of  car- 
borne  Cormac. 

"  Companions  of  my  youth  !"  faid  Colla,  "  it  was 
not  thus  you  have  ken  me  in  arms.  It  was  not  thus. 
]  firoiie  to  battle,  when  the  great  Confadan  fell.  But 
ye  are  laden  with  grief.  The  darknefs  of  age  comes  like 
the  mi  ft  of  the  defert.  My  fhield  is  worn  with  years  ; 
my  fword  is  fixed  f  in  its  place.  I  faid  to  my  foul, 
thy  evening  (hall  be  calm,  and  thy  departure  like  a  fad- 
ing light.  But  the  florm  has  returned;  I  bend  like 
an  aged  oak.  My  boughs  are  fallen  on  Selama,  and 
I  tremble  in  my  place.  Wlv  re  art  thou,  with  thy  fal- 
len heroes,  O  my  beloved  Truthil  ?  Thou  anfwereft 
not  from  thy  ruining  blaft  :  and  the  foul  of  thy  father 
is  fad.  But  I  wiil  be  fad  no  more,  Cairbar  or  Colla 
mull  fall.  I  feel  the  returning  ftrength  of  my  arm.  My 
heart  leaps  at  the  found  of  battle." 

The  hero  drew  his  fword.  The  gleaming  blades  of 
his  people  rofe.  They  moved  along  the  plain.  Their 
gray  hair  fh-eamed  in  the  wind.  Cairbar  fat,  at  the 
feaft,  in  the  filent  plain  of  Lena  |j.  He  faw  the  coming 
of  heroes,  and  he  called  his  chiefs  to  battle.  Why  *[ 
fhould  I  tell  to  Nathos,  how  the  ftrife  of  battle  grew  ? 
I  have  1'een  thee,  in  the  mid  ft  of  thoufands,  like  the 
beam  of  heaven's  fire:  it  is  beautiful,  but  terrible  ;  the 
people  fall  in  its  red  courfe.  The  ipear  of  Colla  flew, 
for  he  remembered  the  battles  of  his-  youth.     An  ar- 

J  It  M-as  tfi'c.'.fion  of  thofe  times,  that  every  wnrrior  st  a  certain  age,  or  when 

ic  i'CL.rn     i.M.t  }■■!  the   r-nj,  fixed  his  aras,  in  the  ir-eat  hall,  wherelhe  tril>e 

fruited,  upon  i  li:  n.s  afterwards  never  to  appear  in  battle;   and 

•'^  '  i  i' i  i  :  niihg.of  the  »rBis.' 

,  l  o.-.u.  '  arvarr-;  ;  .>.;:..'   it  v --.".■_  ciiftona,  in  the  days  afOffian,  to  feaft  after 

•.•■-•  .  >  i    ■.  entertainment  tor  hjs  arfcrynpon  the  de- 

ilthel   n  of  Colla,  and  the  reift  of  the  party  of  Cormae,  when  Colla 

ar.J  hi- a.^ru  ■    .  .        :    ':.■■.  i  s  ■    ■•■.^  :n::.  battle. 

'.•-       f.  r.;.'i  .n  ..i  ti.t  '  Mtlc  of  '.<o?.  a<.  it  would  be  improper 
In  the,  mow  mid  have  nothing  n-'V,  after  the  numerous  Je. 

II,-'.  i*;  fm:e  time,  give*  an  oiijior- 
tun.irloi^     i  -  -     -.■  HWJpliMMtM  un  ijveT, 


32  DAR-THULA: 

row  came  with  its  found,  and  pierced  the  hero's  fide. 
He  fell  on  his  echoing  fhield.  My  foul  ftaned  with  /ear  ; 
I  ftretched  my  buckler  over  him  ,  hut  my  heaving 
breaft  was  feen.  Cairbar  came,  with  his  fpear,  and  he 
beheld  Sehima's  maid:  joy  rofe  on  his  dark-brown 
face  :  he  flayed  the  lifted  fteel.  He  railed  the  tomb  of 
Colla  ;  and  brought  me  weeping  to  Selama.  He  fpoke 
the  words  of  love,  but  my  foul  was  fad.  I  faw  the 
fhields  of  my  fathers,  and  the  fword  of  car-borne  Tru- 
thil.  I.  faw  the  arms  of  the  dead,  and  the  tear  was  on 
my  cheek. 

Then  thou  didft  come,  O  Nathos :  and  gloomy  Cair- 
bar fled.  He  fled  like  the  ghoft  of  the  defert  before 
the  morning's  beam.  His  hefts  were  net  near:  and 
feeble  was  his  arm  againfi  thy  fteel.  "  Why  -f  art  thou 
fad,  O  Nathos  ?"  faid  the  lovely  maid  of  Cclla. 

"  I  have  met,"  replied  the  hero,  "  the  battle  in  my 
youth.  My  arm  could  not  lift  the  fpear,  when  flrft  the 
danger  rofe  ;  but  my  foul  brightened  before  the  war, 
as  the  green  narrow  vale,  when  the  fun  pours  his  ftrea- 
my  beams,  before  he  hides  his  head  in  a  llorm.  My 
foul  brightened  in  danger  before  I  faw  Sclama's  fair  ; 
before  I  faw  thee,  like  a  flar,  that  Mimes  on  the  hill,  at 
night ;  the  cloud  {lowly  comes,  and  threatens  the  love- 
ly light.  We  are  in  the  land  of  the  foe,  and  the  winds 
have  deceived  us,  Bar  thula !  the  ftrength  of  our  friends 
is  not  near,  nor  the  mountains  of  Etha.  Where  fhali  I 
find  thy  peace,  daughter  of  mighty  Colla  ?  The  brothers 
of  Nathos  are  brave:  and  his  own  fword  has  ihone  in 
war.  But  what  are  the  foris  of  Ofnpth  to  the  heft  of 
car  borne  Cairbar  !  O  that  the  winds  had  brought  thy 
fails,  Ofvar  ||,  king  of  men  !  thou  dicft  promife  to  come 
to  the  battles  of  fallen  Cormac.  Then  would  my  Land 
be  ftrong  as  the  faming  arm  of  death.  Caixbar  would/ 
tremble  in  his  halls,  and  peace  dwell  round  the  lovely 


i'rar,  the  fun  of  Oiian,  hit!  '<>n<;  rofohv.I  on  the  expedition,  into  I 
ti.irlvi;  ,  uIm  I   i.!  i^HK-viurt   his  friend  C;itN;l,  ;!.<_,  I'i'ii  of  Mo.-.i  . 

il  noble  extraction,  anil  in  the  imcreft  of  the  famil)  <■■  Coroue. 


A  POEM.  35 

Dar-thula.  But  why  doft  thou  fall,  my  foul  ?  The  fons 
of  Ufnoth  may  prevail." 

"  And  they  will  prevail,  O  Nathos,"  faid  the  rifing 
foul  of  the  maid :  "  never  fhall  Dar-thula  behold  the 
halls  of  gloomy  Cairbar.  Give  me  thofe  arms  of  brafs, 
that  glitter  to  that  patting  meteor ;  I  fee  them  in  the 
dark-bofemed  (hip.  Dar-thula  will  enter  the  battle  of 
Heel.  Ghcft  of  the  noble  Colla  !  do  I  behold  thee  on 
that  cloud  r  who  is  that  dim  bende  thee  ?  It  is  the  car- 
borne  Truth il.  Shall  I  behold  the  halls  of  him  that 
flew  Selama's  chief?  No:  I  will  not  behold  them,  fpi- 
rits  of  my  love  I" 

Joy  rofe  in  the  face  of  Nathos  when  he  heard  the 
white-lwlbmed  maid.  "  Daughter  of  SeL.ma  !  thou 
fhineft  on  my  foul.  Come,  with  thy  thoufantls,  Cair- 
bar !  the  ftrength  of  Nathos  is  returned.     And  thou, 

0  aged  Ufnoth,  (halt  not  hear  that  thy  fon  has  fled. 

1  remember  thy  words  on  Etha ;  when  my  fails 
begun  to  rife  :  when  I  fpread  them  towards  Ullin, 
towards  the  moiTy  walls  of  Tura.  '*  Thou  goefl," 
he  faid,  "  O  Nathos,  to  the  king  of  fhields ;  to 
Cuchullin,  chief  of  men,  who  never  fled  from  danger. 
Let  not  thine  arm  be  feeble :  neither  be  thy  thoughts 
of  flight ;  lefl,the  fon  of  Semo  fay  that  Etha's  race  are 
weak.  His  words  may  come  to  Ufnoth,  and  faddtn  his 
foul  in  the  hall."  The  tear  was  on  his  cheek.  He  gave 
this  fhining  fword." 

"  I  came  to  Tura's  bay  :  but  the  halls  of  Tura  were 
filent.  I  looked  around,  and  there  was  none  to  tell  of 
the  chief  of  Duufcaich.  I  went  to  the  hall  of  his  {hells, 
where  the  arms  of  his  fathers  hung.  But  the  arms 
were  gone,  and  aged  Lamhorf  fat  in  tears.  "  Whence 
are  the  arms  of  Heel  ?"  faid  the  rifing  Lamhcr.  "  The 
light  of  the  fpear  has  long  been  abfent  from  Tura's  duflcy 
walls.  Come  ye  from  the  rolling  f_-a  ?  Or  from  the 
mournful  halls  of  Temora  'I  V 

Vol.  II.  D 

t  Lamh-mhnr,  ■  mighty  h?.r.rt  ' 

,  Ten    -:.  v.i,b  the  royal  palace  nfthe  fuprcme  ! 
le.d  momnf'il,  on   atiov.nt  o'th;- • 
6»i:b*r  «  hn  ui:.-pi-i  I     :r.:t  cc. 


34  DAR-THULA: 

a  "»ye  come  from  the  fea,"  I  faid,  "  from  Ufnoth's 
rifing  towers.  We  are  the  fens  of  Slifsamaf_,  the  daugh- 
ter of  car-home  Stmo.  Where  is  Tura's  chief,  fon  of 
the  filent  hall  ?  but  why  fnould  Nath.os  allc  ?  for  I  be- 
hold thy  tears.  How  did  the  mighty  fall,  fon  of  the 
lonely  Tiira  ?;' 

"  He  fell  not,"  Lamhcr  replied,  "  like  the  filent  liar 
of  night,  when  it  fhoots  through  darknefs  and  is  no 
more.  But  he  was  like  a  meteor  that  falls  in  a  diftant 
land;  death  attends  its  red  courfe,,and  itfelfis  the  fign 
of  wars.  Mournful  are  the  bank-  of  Lego,  and  the 
roar  of  flreamy  Lara  !  There  the  hero  fell,  fen  of  the 
noble  Ufnoth. 

"  The  hero  fell  in  the  midft  of  flaughter,"  [  faid 
with  a  burfting  iigh,  "  His  hand  v,ras  faong  in  battle; 
and  death  was  behind  his  {word." 

it  \^re  caTTe  to  Lcgovs  mournful  banks.  We  found 
his  riling  tomb.  His  companions  in  battle  are  there  : 
his  bards  of  many  fongs,  Three  days  we  mourned  over 
the  hero  :  on  the  fourth,  I  ftruck  the  fhield  of  Caith- 
Bat.  The  heroes  gathered  around  with  joy,  and  fhook 
their  beamy  fpears.  Corlath  was  near  with  his  hoft, 
the  friend  of  car  borne  Call  bar.  We  came  like  a  ftream 
by  night,  and  his  heroes  fell.  When  the  people  of  the 
valley  rofe,  they  law  their  blood  with  morning's  light. 
But  we  roiled  away  like  wreaths  of  mill,  to  Ccrmac's 
echoing  hall.  Our  fwr.rds  rofe  to  defend  the  king-. 
But  Temora's  balk,  were  empty.  Cormac  had  fallen 
in  his  youth.     The  king  of  Erin  was  no  more. 

"  Sadnefs  feized  the  ions  of  U!lin,they  flowly,  gloo- 
mily retired:  like  clouds  that,  long  Laving  threatened 
rain,  retire  behind  the  hills.  The  fons  of  Ufnoth  mov- 
ed, in  their  grief,  towards  Tura's  founding  bay.  We 
paffed  bySekma,  andCaiibar  retired  like  Lano's  mift, 
when  it  is  driven  by  the  winds  of  the  defert. 

"  It  was  then  I  beheld  thee,  O  maid,  like  the  light 


+  ?lis-f»sni1;-i,  •  fof(  bnr.-.m.'    The  was  the  wife  of  Ufr.ot 
n;o,  Uic  chitt  of  the  ifle  a(  mift. 


A  POEM.  3JJ 

of  Etha's  fun.  Lovely  is  that  beam.,  I  faid,  and  the 
crowde d  figh  of  my  bofom  rofe.  Thou  caraeft  in  thy 
beauty,  Dar-thula,  to  Etha's  mournful  chief.  But  the 
winds  have  deceived  us,  daughter  of  Colla,  and  the  foe 
is  near." 

"  Yes !  the  foe  is  near,"  faid  the  milling  ftrength  of 
Althosf.  "  I  heard  their  clanging  arms  on  the  coail,' 
and  law  the  dark  wreaths  of  Erin's  flandard.  Diftinct 
is  the  voice  of  Cairbar  [|,  and  loud  as  Cromla's  falling 
ftream.  He  had  feen  the  dark  fhip  on  the  fea,  before 
the  dufky  night  came  down.  His  people  watch  on  Le- 
na's plain,  and  lift  ten  thoufand  fwords."  "  And  let 
them  lift  ten  thoufand  fwords,"  faid  Nafhos  with  a 
fmile.  "  The  fons  of  car-borne  Ufnoth  will  never 
tremble  in  danger.  Why  doft  thou  roll  with  all  thy 
foam,  thou  roaring  fea  of  Uihn?  Why  do  ye  ruffle,  on 
your  dark  wings,  ye  whiffling  tempefts  of  the  Iky  ?  Do 
ye  think,  ye  florms,  that  ye  keep  Natnos  on  the  coalt? 
No:  his  foul  detains  him,  children  of  the  night!  Al- 
thos !  bring  my  father's  arms :  thcu  feeft  them  beaming 
to  the  ftars.  Bring  the  fpear  of  SemoT>  it  Hands  in 
the  dark-bofomed  fhip." 

He  brought  the  arms.  Nathos  clothed  his  limbs  in 
all  their  fhining  fleet.  The  ftride  of  the  chief  is  lovely: 
the  joy  of  his  eyes  terrible.  He  looks  towards  the  com- 
ing of  Cairbar.  The  wind  is  ruffling  in  his  hair,  Dar- 
thula  is  blent  at  his  fide:  her  look  is  fixed  on  the  chief. 
She  ftrives  to  hide  the  riling  figh,  and  two  tears  {Well 
in  her  eyes. 

"  Althos!"  faid  the  chief  of  Etha,  "  I  fee  a  cave  in 
that  rock.     Place  Dar-thula  there:  and  let  thy  arm  be 
D  % 

\  AHhos  had  juft  returned  from  viewing  the  coail  of  Lena,  whither  he  had 
been  Ten;  by    Nathos,  the  begin. in;;  i.i  tne  night. 

.,  Cairbar  had  f-athcrcil  ;::i  arm/,  to  t!>  •  i-jii.i  ci"  Ullter,  in  onicr  to  oooofc  Fin- 
gal,  who  prepared  tor  an  expedition  into  in  laud,  a.  :  e-cilajloh  tile  "hniifc  of 
Cormic  ou  thethroi.e,  which  Cairbar  bad  ufiirped.  between  the  v.  ing-.  of  Cair- 
bar's  arniy  was  the  hay  oi  I'ura,  irto  «  r.ieh  the  (hip  of  the  foils  of  Ufnoth  was 
driven  :    fo  tha'  theie  was  no  po.libiliiy  of  th.ir  eftapir-s. 

II  Semo  w  s  jirundfiither  to  Mathos  bv  tlw  mother's  inle.  The  fpear  mentioned 
here  wa»gi\<.ii  to  Uinoth  u:.  his  marriage,  it  be'-  i  the  i uitom  hen  ior  the  lather 
bf  the  lady  In  give  his  arms  to  his  fun-m-Uw.  i  fcc  ceremony  ule4  ujfua  theft  ol- 
cafions  Umcntio&ed  in  other  pocm». 


36  DAR-THULA: 

ftrong.  Ardan!  we  meet  the  foe,  and  call  to  battle 
gloomy  Cairbar.  O  that  he  came  in  his  founding  fteel, 
to  meet  the  fon  of  Ufnoth!  Dar-thula!  if  thou  malt  e- 
lcape,  look  not  on  the  falling  Nathos.  Lift  thy  fails, 
O  Althos,  towards  the  echoing  groves  of  Etha. 

"  Tell  to  the  chief  f,  that  his  fon  fell  with  fame ; 
that  my  fword  did  not  fhun  the  battle.  Tell  him  I  fell 
in  the  midft  of  thoufands,  and  let  the  joy  of  his  grief 
be  great.  Daughter  of  Colla!  call  the  maids  to  Etna's 
echoing  hall.  Let  their  fongs  arife  for  Nathos,  when 
fhadowy  autumn  returns.  O  that  the  voice  of  Cona[| 
might  be  heard  in  my  praife !  then  would  my  fpirit  re- 
joice in  the  midft  of  my  mountain-winds."  And  my 
voice  fhall  praife  thee,  Nathos,  chief  of  the  woody  E- 
tha !  The  voice  of  Offian  fhall  rife  in  thy  praife,  fon  of 
the  generous  Ufnoth !  Why  was  I  not  on  Lena,  when 
the  battle  rofe?  Then  would  the  fword  of  Oflian  have 
defended  thee,  or  himfclf  have  fallen  low. 

We  fat,  that  night,  in  Selma,  round  the  ftrength  of 
the  fhell.  The  wind  was  abroad,  in  the  oaks ;  the  fpi- 
rit of  the  mountain  If  fhrieked.  The  blaft  came  ruftling 
through  the  hall,  and  gently  touched  my  harp.  The 
found  was  mournful  and  low,  like  the  fong  of  the  tomb. 
Fingal  heard  it  firft,  and  the  crowded  fighs  of  his  bo- 
fom  rofe.  "  Some  of  my  heroes  are  low,"  faid  the 
gray- hajred  king  of  Morven.  "  I  hear  the  found  of 
death  on  the  harp  of  my  fon.  Offian,  touch  the  found- 
ing firing;  bid  the  forrcw  rife;  that  their  fpirits  may 
fly  with  joy  to  Morven's  woody  hills,"  I  touched  the 
harp  before  the  king,  the  found  was  mournful  and  low. 
"  Bend  forward  from  your  clouds,"  I  faid,  "  ghofts  of 
my  fatliers !  bend ;  lay  by  the  red  terror  of  your  courfe, 
and  receive  the  falling  chief;  whether  he  comes  from  a 
diftant  land  or  riles  from  the  rolling  fea.  Let  his  robe 
of  rnift  be  near;  his  fpear  that  is  formed  of  a  cloud. 
Place  an  half-extinguifhed  meteor  by  his  fide,  in  the 

1. Ufnoth. 

i:  (Mlian,  the  fon  of  Fingal,  is,  often,  poetically  called  the  voice  of  Cona. 

1i  ;i\  the  fj'iiii  of  the  mountain  is,  meant  that  d.cp  nid  melancholy  fouud  whlCB 
pcet'tUcsa  P.u:ai;   well  i-nuwr.  tothwc  v,  hu  li\t  in  a  higU  couatry. 


A    POEM.  37 

form  of  the  hero's  fword.  And,  oh !  let  his  counte- 
nance be  lovely,  that  his  friends  may  delight  in  his  pro- 
fence.  Bend  from  your  clouds/'  I  laid,  "  ghofts  of 
my  fathers!  bend." 

Such  was  my  long,  in  Selma,  to  the  lightly-tremb- 
ling harp.  But  Nathos  was  on  [Jinn's  fhore  furround- 
ed  by  the  night;  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  foe  amidft 
the  roar  of  tumbling  waves.  Silent  he  heard  their 
voice,  and  relied  on  his  fpear.  Morning  rofe,  with  its 
beams:  the  fons  of  Erin  appear;  like  gray  rocks,  with 
all  their  trees,  they  fpread  along  the  coalt.  Cairbar 
flood,  in  the  midit,  and  grimly  nulled  when  h&  law 
the  foe.  Nathos  rufhed  forward  in  his  ftrength  ;  nor 
could  Bar-thula  Hay  behind.  She  came  with  the  hero, 
lifting  her  mining  fpear.  And  who  are  thefe,  in  their 
armour,  in  the  pride  of  youth?  Who  but  the  fons  of 
Ufnoth ;  Althos  and  dark  haired  Ardan. 

"  Come,"  laid  Nathos,  "  come !  chief  of  the  high 
Temora  !  Let  our  battle  be  on  the  coaft  for  the  white- 
bolbmed  maid  !  His  people  are  not  with  Nathos ;  they 
are  behind  that  rolling  lea.  Why  doft  thou  bring  thy 
thoufands  againft  the'chief  of  Etha?  Thou  didft  fly  t 
from  him,  in  battle,  when  his  friends  were  around 
him."  "  Youth  of  the  heart  of  pride,  mall  Erin's  king 
fight  with  thee  ?  Thy  fathers  were  not  among  the  re- 
nowned, nor  of  the  kings  of  men.  Are  the  arms  oJ 
foes  in  their  halls  ?  or  the  fhields  of  other  times?  Cair- 
bar is  renowned  in  Temora,  nor  does  he  fight  with 
little  men." 

The  tear  ftarts  from  car  borne  Nathos;  he  turned 
his  eyes  to  his  brothers.  Their  ipears  Hew,  at  once, 
and  three  heroes  lay  on  earth.  Then  the  light  of  their 
f  words  gleamed  on  high:  the  ranks  of  Erin  yield;  as  a 
ridge  or  dark  clouds  before  a  blaft  of  wind.  Tneu 
Cairbar  ordered  his  people;  and  they  drew  a  thoufand 
bows.  A  thoufand  arrows  flew;  the  ions  of  Ufnoth 
fell.  They  fell  like  three  young  oaks  which  flood  a* 
D  3 

t  H;  »ltsJeite  ;i«  tight  »f  CtfrUi  ;>;:?.  -xlJm3» 


38  D.4R-THULA  :    A  POEM. 

lone  on  the  hill;  the  traveller  law  the  lovely  trees,  an<3 
wondered  how  they  grew  fo  lonely:  the  blaft  of  the 
delert  came,  by  night,  and  laid  their  green  heads  low ; 
next  day  he  returned,  but  they  were  withered,  and  the 
heath  was  bare. 

Dar-thula  jlood  in  filent  grief,  and  beheld  their  fall ; 
no  tear  is  in  her  eye:  but  her  look  is  wildly  lad.  Pale 
was  her  cheek;  her  trembling  lips  broke  fhort  an  half- 
formed  word.  Her  dark  hair  flew  on  the  wind.  But 
gloomy  Cairbar  came.  "Where  is  thy  lover  now ; 
the  car-borne  chief  of  Etha?  Hail  thou  beheld  the  halls 
ol  Uihoth?  or  the  dark-brown  hills  of  Fingal?  My  bat- 
tle had  roared  on  Morven,  did  not  the  winds  meet  Dar- 
tliula.  Fingal  himfelf  would  have  been  low,  and  ibr- 
row  dwelling  in  Sclma."  Her  fhield  fell  from  Dar- 
thula's  arm,  her  breaft  of  fnovv  appeared.  It  appeared, 
but  it  was  fiained  with  blood,  for  an  arrow  was  fixed 
in  her  fide.  She  fell  on  the  i alien  Nathos,  like  a  wreath 
of  fnow.  Her  dark  hair  ipreads  on  his  face,  and  their 
blood  is  mixing  round. 

"  Daughter  of  Colia  thou  art  low!"  faid  Cairbar's 
hundred  bards ;  "  filence  is  at  the  blue  fireams  of  Selama, 
for  Truthil'sf  race  have  failed.  When  wilt  thou  rile 
in  thy  beauty,  firft  of  Erin's  maids?  Thy  flcep  is  long 
in  the  tomb,  and  the  morning  diftant  far.  The  fun 
frail  not  come  to  thy  bed,  and  lay,  "  Awake,  Dar- 
thula !  awake,  thou  firft  of  women !  the  wind  of  fpring 
is  abroad.  The  flowers  fhake  their  heads  on  the  green 
hills,  the  woods  wave  their  growing  leaves."  Retire, 
O  fun,  the  daughter  of  Colla  is  afleep.  She  will  not 
come  forth  in  her  beauty ;  me  will  not  move,  in  the 
fkps  of  her  lovelinefs." 

Such  was  the  fong  of  the  bards,  when  they  raifed  the 
tomb.  I  lung,  afterwards,  over  the  grave,  when  the 
king  of  Morven  came;  when  lie  came  to  green  UUin 
to  fight  with  car-borne  Cairbar, 


CARRIC-THURA: 

A     P  O  E  M. 


THE  ARGUMENT. 

Finttal,  returning  from  an  expedition  which  he  had  made  into  the  Roman  province, 
refolved  to  vifit  Cathulla  kinc  of  luii'.ore,  ami  brother  to  Comala,  whofe 
fi.;r  i-  r-.atei,  .t  ia-tre.  j„  til-  dra.r-tie  ['-;:  i  p'u'.'i.'ih.o  in  this  collection.  Up* 
■  nlR  ,„  <  s:,«  ,ii"  C:irri.--tmira,  the  paiaLt  of  c  atbutla,  he  obferved  a 
Hat:,;  •!:  its  top,  which,  iii  tbofe  days,  was  a  rignal  of  dift'rcfs.  The  wind  drove 
h':i:i'i:it.-.  aba;, at  foine  ditluiice  tr,  :i.  Carricthura,  and  he  was  obliged  to  pafs 
the  r.ight  on  the  ihore.  Nc*t  day  f.eattac  ed  ti.e  a.-rny  of  Froihal  ki:i :t  m'si.ra, 
who  had  believed  i'athi;'t.a  in  uis  yA:  re  of  Carricthura,  ar.d  took.  Frothal  hiiu- 
felfpru  i:  er, after  he  hud  cleared  h.o  in  a  fir.tiie  coml.it.  l'ne  at  lneianteofCaT. 
rich  a.  a  u;  thef-b'-Ct-.u  [be~puein,but  !'.■  .ralnd.ei  erib-di.-aro  interwoven  with, 
it.  It  appear-  from  tradirior.,  tb.c  i  b.:.  r.i«m  wi-,  addreSV.-i  tnaCuldce,  or  one  of 
the  firlt  Clinitiar.  ir.i.Tiouaries,  and  that  tfceltory  of  tnr  opirit  of  Luda,  fuppofid 
to  be  the  ancie.it  Odin  ,,[  seandinuv^,  -a  as  n,;r  !■  l£,1  hv  Ofiiar,  in  opposition  to 
the  -.'nldec's  duaiiue  Ke  this  a»  it  will,  it  Lis  w  imo  fi,n..n'o  notions  of  a  fu- 
perior  being ;  anu  (hews  that  he  «>  uot  sddicfed  to  the  fu|  e,!tilion  which  pre- 
vailed al.  the  world  over,  before  tire  rutruducucu  of  Chiutiauiiy. 

TLjASTf  thou  left  thy  blue  courfe  in  heaven,  goldett- 
■*■  *  haired  Ton  of  the  Iky?  The  weft  has  opened  its 
gates;  the  bed  of  thy  repofe  is  there.  The  waves  come 
to  behold  thy  beauty  :  they  lift  their  trembling-  heads  : 
they  fee  thee  lovely  in  thy  fleep;  but  they  ihrink  away 
with  fear.  Reft  in  thy  fhadowy  cave,  O  fini !  and  let 
thy  return  be  in  joy.  But  let  a  thoufand  lights  arift  to 
the  fotlnd  of  the  harv>s  of  Sehna:  let  the  beam  fpread 
in  the  hall,  the  king  of  ihells  is  returned!  The  ftfife  of 
Cronal|  is  pa.fl,  iikc  founds  that  are  no  more:  raife  the 
fong,  O  bards,  the  king  is  returned  with  his  fame ! 

Such  was  the  long  of  UlUn,  when  Fingal  returned 
"From  battle:  when  lie  returtsed  in  the  fair  blufhing  of 
youth  ;  with  all  his  heavy  locks.  His  blue  arms  were 
on  the  hero;  like  a  gray  cloud  on  the  fun,  when  he 
moves  in  his  robes  of  mift,  and  fhews  but  half  his 

+  The  ion  ;  o'  CUin,  with  which  the  poem  opens,  is  in  a  lyric  meafure.  It  was 
pfu*l  wi  h  Fi'-.Cil,  when  he  return,-,'.  Mem  ,111  e\u  ,iit  ions,  to  fend  hi?  bards  fins- 
ing  before  him.  1  h.=.  ;•  tc.es  of  ttiutr.ph  is  called  by  OUian,  the  *  fong  of  tic 
torv  • 

rat    :  '        'fltifc  of  C  rnna,"  in  a  part^-iili'  poem.    This  poem 

•    lor   tho   tia.i'Ualv.   1-JylvCUie  ut^  part 

whicti  relates  cc  Cioaa,  v.:..  ih.  uc~. „v  .-.    ...... . 


40  CARRIC-THURA: 

beams.  His  heroes  follow  the  king  :  the  feaft  of  fhells 
is  fpread.  Fingal  turns  to  his  bards,  and  bids  the  fong 
to  rife. 

Voices  of  echoing  Cona  !  he  faid,  O  bards  of  other 
times  !  Ye,  on  whofe  fouls  the  blue  nofts  of  our  fathers 
rife!  flrike  the  harp  in  my  hall;  and  let  Fingal  hear 
the  long.  Pleafant  is  the  joy  of  grief!  it  is  like  the 
fhower  of  fpring,  when  it  foftens  the  branch  of  the  oak, 
and  the  young  leaf  lifts  its  green  head.  Sing  on,  O 
bards,  to-morrow  we  lift  the  fail.  My  blue  courfe  is 
through  the  ocean,  to  Carric-thura's  walls ;  the  moffy 
walls  of  Sarrio,  where  Cpmala  dwelt.  There  the  noble 
Cathulla  fpreads  the  ftaft  of  fhells.  The  boars  of  his 
woods  are  many,  and  the  found  of  the  chafe  (hall  arife. 

Cronnanf,  lbnoffong!  faid  Ullin,  Mhiona,  grace- 
ful at  the  harp!  raife  the  fcng  of  Shilric,  to  pleafe  the 
king  of  Morven.  Let  Vinvela  come  in  her  beauty, 
like  the  fhowery  bow,  when  it  fhews  its  lovely  head  on 
the  lake,  and  the  letting  fun  is  bright.  And  fhe  comes, 
O  Fingal!  her  voice  is  foft,  but  fad. 

finveia.  Mv  love  is  a  fon  of  the  hill.  Hepurfuesthe 
flying  deer.  His  gray  dogs  are  panting  around  him  ; 
his  bow-firing  founds  in  the  wind.  Doft  thou  reft  by  the 
fount  of  the  rock,  or  by  the  noife  of  the  mountain*- 
fiream  ?  the  rufhes  are  nodding  with  the  wind,  the  milt 
is  flying  over  the  hill.  1  will  approach  my  love  un- 
perceived,  and  fee  him  from  the  rock.  Lovely  I  fat* 
thee  (lift  by  the  aged  oak  of  Branno  || ;  thou  wert  re- 
turning tail  from  the  chafe ;  the  faireft  among  thy 
friends. 

S/j/irc  What  voice  is  that  I  hear?  that  voice  like 
the  fummer  wind.     I  fit  not  by  the  nodding  rufhes  ;  I 


i  » «- 

by  th  it  name 

yf  Portland,  1 


,;  fiuciCU, 


A   POEM.  41 

hear  not  the  fount  of  the  rock.  Afar,  VinvelaT,  afar 
1  go  to  the  wars  of  Fingal.  My  dogs  attend  me  no 
more  No  more  I  tread  the  hill.  No  more  from  on 
high  I  fee  thee,  fair-moving  by  the  ftream  of  the  plain  ; 
bright  as  the  bow  of  heaven;  as  the  moon  on  the  weft- 
em  wave. 

Virfotta.  Then  thou  art  gone,  O  Shilric!  and  I  am 
alone  on  the  hill.  The  deer  are  feen  on  the  brow ; 
void  of  fear  they  graze  along.  No  more  they  dread 
the  wind ;  no  more  the  ruftling  tree.  The  hunter  is 
far  removed  ;  he  is  in  the  field  of  graves.  Strangers  ! 
fons  of  the  waves  !  fpare  my  lovely  Shilric. 

Skilrtc.  If  fall  I  mill  in  the  field,  raife  high  my  grave, 
Vinvela.  Gray  ltones  and  heaped-up  earth,  fhall  mark 
me  to  future  times.  When  the  hunter  fhall  fit  by  the 
mound,  and  produce  his  food  at  noon,  "  Some  warri- 
or relts  here,  '  he  will  fay;  and  my  fame  fhall  live  in 
his  praife.  Remember  me,  Vinvela,  when  low  on 
earth  I  lie ! 

Virfodu.  Yes!  I  will  remember  thee;  indeed  my 
Shilric  will  fall.  What  fhall  I  do,  my  love!  when 
thou  art  gone  for  ever  ?  Through  thefe  hiils  I  will  go 
at  noon  :  I  will  go  through  the  filent  heath.  There  I 
will  fee  the  place  of  thy  reft,  returning  from  the  chafe. 
Indeed  my  Shilric  will  fall ;  but  I  will  remember  him'. 

And  I  remember  the  chief,  faid  the  king  of  woody 
Morven ;  he  confumed  the  battle  in  his  rage.  But  now 
my  eyes  behold  him  not.  I  met  him,  one  day,  on 
the  hiil ;  his  cheek  was  pale ;  his  brow  was  dark.  The 
figh  was  frequent  in  his  breaft :  his  Heps  were  towards 
the  defert.  But  now  he  is  not  in  the  crowd  of  my 
chiefs,  when  the  founds  of  my  fhields  arife,  Dwells 
he  in  the  narrow  houfe  f,  the  chief  of  high  Carmora  [j  ? 

Cronnan !  faid  Ullin  of  other  times,  raife  the  fong  of 
Shilric  ;  when  he  returned  Lo  his  hills,  and  Vinvela  was 
no  more.     He  leaned  on  her  gray  mofiy  ftone ;  he 

\  Btiin-feheul,  '  a  woman  with  a  melodious  voice.'    B&  in  the  Gallic  laag  jsze, 
Jps  tie  ferae  found  wjth  the  V  in  Engliflj. 
+  The  grave, 
J;  Carn-mor,  '  Mi;t»  rocky  h3i.' 


4*  CARRIC-THURA: 

thought  Vinvela  lived.  He  faw  her  fair^moving  ||  on 
the  plain :  hut  the  bright  fonn  lafted  not :  the  fun- 
beam  fled  from  the  field,  and  fhe  was  feen  no  more. 
Hear  the  fong  of  Shilric,  it  is  foft,  but  fad. 

I  fit  by  the  moffy  fountain  ,  on  the  top  of  the  hill  of 
winds.  One  tree  is  ruffling  above  me.  Dark  waves 
roll  over  the  heath.  The  lake  is  troubled  below.  The 
deer  defcend  from  the  hill.  No  hunter  at  a  diftance  is 
feen  ;  no  whiflling  cow-herd  is  nigh.  It  is  mid-day  : 
but  all  is  filent.  Sad  are  my  thoughts  alone.  Didft 
thou  but  appear,  O  my  love,  a  wanderer  on  the  heath! 
thy  hair  floating  on  die  wind  behind  thee;  thy  bolbm 
heaving  on  the  fight ;  thine  eyes  full  of  tears  for  thy 
friends,  whom  the  miff  of  the  hill  had  concealed ! 
Thee  I  would  comfort,  my  love,  and  bring  thee  to  thy 
father's  houfe. 

But  is  it  fhe  that  there  appears,  like  a  beam  of  light 
on  the  heath?  bright  as  the  moon  in  autumn,  as  the 
fun  in  a  fummer-fiorm3  comeft  thou,  lovely  maid,  over 
rocks,  over  mountains  to  me  ?  She  fpeaks :  but  hour 
weak  her  voice,  like  the  breeze  in  the  reeds  of  the  pool. 

"  Return  eft  thou  fafe  from  the  war  ?  Where  are  thy 
friends,  my  love  ?  I  heard  of  thy  death  on  the  hill;  I 
heard  and  mourned  thee,  Shilric  !"  Yes,  my  fair,  I  re- 
turn ;  but  I  alone  of  my  race.  Thou  fhalt  fee  them  no 
more  :  their  graves  I  raifed  on  the  plain.  But  why  art 
thou  on  the  defert  hill?  Why  on  the  heath,  alone  ? 

€<  Alone  I  am,  O  Shilric  !  alone  in  the  winter-houfe. 
With  e:rief  for  thee  I  expired.  Shilric,  I  am  pale  in  the 
tomb." 

She  fleets,  fhe  fails  away;  as  gray  milt  before  the 
wind  !  and,  wilt  thou  not  ftay,  my  love  ?  Stay  and  be- 
hold my  tears  ?  fair  thou  appeareft,  Vinvela !  fair  thou 
waft,  when  alive  ! 

By  the  mofly  fountain  I  will  fit;  on  the  top  of  the 
hill  of  winds.     When  mid-day  is  filent  around,  con- 

1|Thed:ftinaion,  which  the  ancient  Scots  made  between  good  and  brd  fpirits, 
*a,  that  t!u  tanner  appeared  fomcllmes  in  the  day  time  in  lonely  unfrequented 
pUt-ei,  bat  Uie  Utter  fekiui*i  but  by  night,  ajiUalv.ayb  in  a  uifuiul  gloomy  fcifte. 


A    FOP.M.  43 

verfc,  O  my  love  with  me!  come  on  the  wings  of  the 
gale  !  on  the  blaft  of  the  mountain,  come  !  Let  me  hear 
thy  voice,  as  thou  paffeft,  when  mid-day  is  (ilent  a- 
rounc!. 

Such  was  the  fong  of  Cronnan,  on  the  night  of  Sel- 
ma's  joy.  But  mcrnir.g  rofc  in  Ehe  eafi: ;  the  blue  wa- 
ters rolled  in  light,  f  ingal  bade  his  fails  to  rife,  and 
the  winds  came  ruffling  from  their  hills.  Iniitore  role 
to  fight,  and  Carrie- thura's  mofiy  towers.  But  the 
fign  of  diftrefs  was  on  their  top:  the  green  flame  edged 
with  ftnoke;  The  Icing  of  Morven  fixuck  hisbreaft: 
he  afi'umed,  at  once,  his  fpcar.  His  darkened  brow- 
bends  forward  to  the  coafl :  he  looks  back  to  the  lag- 
ging winds.  His  hair  is  difordered  on  his  back.  The 
fiience  of  the  king  is  terrible. 

Night  came  down  on  the  fea :  Rotha's  bay  received 
the  fhip.  A  rock  bends  along  the  coaft  with  all  its  e- 
choirig  wood.  On  the  top  is  the  circle  f  of  Loda,  and 
the  moiTy  fione  of  power.  A  ^narrow  plain  fpreads  be- 
neath, covered  with  grafs  and  aged  trees,  which  the 
midnight  winds,  in  their  wrath,  had  torn  from  the 
fhaggy  reck.  The  blue  courfe  of  a  ftrcam  ir,  there  : 
and  che  lonely  blaft  of  ocean  purfues  the  thiffle's  beard. 
The  flame  of  three  oaks  arofe  :  the  feaft  is  i'pread  a- 
ro-jnd  :  but  the  foul  of  the  king  is  lad,  for  Carrie -thu- 
attling  cliitf. 

The  wan  ccld  moon  reie;  in  the  eafi.  Sleep  defend- 
ed on  the  youths:  Their  blue  helmets  glitter  to  the 
beam  ,  the  fad;ng  fire  decays.  But  deep  die;  not  reft 
on  die  kmg  :  he  rofe  in  the  midft  of  his  arms,  and 
flowly  afcended  the  hill  to  behold  tfte  name  of  Sarno's 
tower. 

The  flame  was  dim  and  diftant ;  the  moon  hid  her 
red  face  in  the  eaft.  A  blaft  came  from  the  mountain, 
and  bore,  on  its  wings,  the  fpirit  of  Loda.  He  came  to 
his  place  in  his  terrors  jj,  and  he  fhcok  his  dufky  fpear. 

t   T.s.  ■  circle  of  Lnrfi  is  r  ippofcd  fo  be  i  pl^ce  of  u-irfhip  wwni;  the  Scand'navi. 
n:  nf  Uo&i  '.■■.  t '-.'j.!-.--  .  .  bt  ti.s  i.im:  \vi;h    r.ci:  j: 

U  He  &  described,  in  a  Junile,       ^  .    u  3  the  death,  o!  C'jchuilin. 


44  CARRI.C-THURA: 

His  eyes  appear  like  flames  in  his  dark  face;  and  his 
voice  is  like  diffant  thunder.  Fingal  advanced  with 
the  fpear  of  his  ftrength,  and  raifed  his  voice  on  high. 

Son  of  night,  retire:  call  thy  winds  and  fly :  Why 
dofl  thou  come  to  my  prefence,  with  thy  fhadowy  arms  ? 
Do  I  fear  thy  gloomy  form,  difmal  fpirit  of  Loda  ? 
Weak  is  thy  fhield  of  clouds :  feeble  is  that  meteor, 
thy  fword.  The  blaft  rolls  them  together ;  and  thou 
thyfelf  dofl:  vanifh.  Fly  from  my  prefence,  fon  of  night ! 
call  thy  winds  and  fly  ! 

Dofl:  thou  force  me  from  my  place,  replied  the  hol- 
low voice  ?  The  people  bend  before  me.  I  turn  the 
battle  in  the  field  of  the  valiant.  I  look  on  the  nations 
and  they  vanifh :  my  noilrils  pour  the  blaft  of  death.  I 
come  abroad  on  the  winds  :  the  tempefls  are  before  my 
face.  But  my  dwelling  is  calm,  above  the  clouds,  the. 
"fi«lds  of  my  reft  are  pleafant. 

Dwell  then  in  my  calm  field,  faid  FlngaL  and  let 
Comhal's  fon  be  forgot.  Do  my  fteps  afcend,  from  my 
hills,  into  thy  peaceful  plains  ?  Do  I  meet  thee,  with  a 
fpear,  on  thy  cloud,  fpirit  of  difmal  Loda  ?  Why  then 
dofl  thou  frown  on  Fingal  ?  or  (hake  thine  airy  fpear  ? 
But  thou  frowneft  in  vain :  I  never  fled  from  mighty 
men.  And  fhall  the  fons  of  the  wind  frighten  the  king 
of  Morven!  No:  he  knows  the  weaknefs  of  their 
arms. 

Fly  to  thy  land,  replied  the  form  :  receive  the  wind 
and  fly.  The  blafts  are  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand  : 
the  courfe  of  the  ftorm  is  mine.  The  king  of  Sora  is 
my  fon,  he  bends  at  the  ftone  of  my  power.  His  bat- 
tle is  around  Carric-thura ;  and  he  will  prevail  Fly 
to  thy  land,  fon  of  Comhal,  or  feel  my  flaming  wrath. 

He  lifted  high  his  fhadowy  fpear:  and  bent  forward 
his  terrible  height.  But  the  king,  advancing,  drew  his 
fword  ;  the  blade  of  dark-brown  Luno  +.  The  gleam- 
ing path  of  the  ikel  wind.-;  through  the  gloomy  ghoft. 
7  he  form  fell  fhapeiefs  into  air,  like  a  column  of  fmoke, 

f  Ths  iiwiout  iw  j.-i  o;  ri;:s-l,  nisde  by  I.un,  ux  Lauo,  a  fmith  ai'  iotiilim 


A    POEM.  45 

which  the  ftafT  of  the  boy  difturhs,  as  it  rifes  from  the 
half- extinguished  furnace. 

The  lpiiit  of  Loda  fhrieked,  as,  rolled  into  himfelf, 
he  role  on  the  wind.  Iniftore  (hook  at  the  found.  The 
waves  heard  it  on  the  deep :  they  flopped,  in  their 
courfe,  with  fear:  the  companions  of  Fingal  ftarted,  at 
once  ;  and  took  their  heavy  {pears.  They  miffed  the 
king  :  tliey  rofe  with  rage  ;  all  their  arms  refound. 

The  moon  came  forth  in  the  eaft.  The  king  re- 
turned in  the  gleam  of  his  arms.  The  joy  of  his  youths 
was  great ;  their  fouls  fettled,  as  a  fea  from  a  itorm. 
Ullin  railed  the  fong  of  gladnefs.  The  hills  of  Iniftore 
rejoiced.  The  (lame  of  the  oak  aroie  ;  and  the  tales 
of  heroes  are  told 

But  Frothal,  Sora's  battling  king,  fits  in  fadnefs  be- 
neath a  tree.  The  ho  ft  ipreads  around  Carric-thura. 
Ke  looks  towards  the  walls  with  rage,  lie  longs  for 
the  blood  of  Cathulla,  who,  once,  overcame  the  king  in, 
war.  When  xVnnir  reigned  j|  in  Sora,  the  father  of  car- 
borne  Frothal,  a  blaft  role  on  the  tea,  and  carried  Fro- 
thal to  Iniftore.  Three  days  he  feafted  in  Sarno's  halls, 
and  faw  the  flow  rolling  eyes  of  Comala.  lie  loved 
her,  in  the  rage  of  youth,  and  rufhed  to  feize  the 
white-armed  maid.  Cathulla  met  the  chief.  The 
gloomy  battle  rofe.  Frothal  is  bound  in  the  ha!i :  three 
days  he  pined  alone.  On  the  fourth,  Samo  lent  him 
to  his  fhip,  and  he  returned  to  his*  land.  But  wrath 
darkened  his  foul  againft  the  noble  Cathulla.  When 
Annir's  ftone  f  of  fame  arofe,  Frothal  came  in  his 
ftrength.  The  battle  burned  round  Carric-thura,  and 
Sarno's  mofiy  walls. 

Morning  rofe  on  Iniftore.  Frothal  ftruck  his  dark* 
brown  fhield.  His  chiefs  ftarted  at  the  found  ;  they 
flood,  but  their  eyes  were  turned  to  the  lea.    They  law 

Vul.  II.  E 


!|  Annir  was  alfo  Hie  f?."\?>-  ^  ?r-iron,  v.-hn  -'-is  \:\"-A  r>.frc-r  th 
brother  Kroihal.     rhe  death  of  Erragon  is  \ 

: 
*■  VhH  .-.,   >.ucr  ti:e  a.T.lli  >f  Annir.     To  civil  the  :\oas  ui'  uuu'i 

.      .  .; 


46  OARP.tC-THURA  : 

I  ingal  coming  in  his  ftverigth;.  and  firft  the  nchle  Thu- 
bav  ipoke. 

"  Who  comes  lilce  the  flag  of  the  mountain,  with 
all  his  herd  behind  him  ?  Frothal,  it  is  a  foe ;  I  fee  his 
forward  fpear.  Perhaps  it  is  'he  king  of  Morven,  Fin- 
gal,  the  firft  of  men.  His  acKons  are  well  known  en 
Gormal;  the  blood  of  his  foes  is  in  Same's  halls.  Shall 
I  afk  the  peace  |  of  kings  ?  He  is  like  the  thunder  of 
heaven." 

"  Sen  of  the  feeble  hand,"  faid  Frothal,  "  mall  my 
days  begin  in  darknefs  ?  Shr.U  I  yield  before  I  have 
conquered  in  battle,  chief  of  ftreamy  Tcra  ?  The  peo- 
ple would  lay  in  Sora,  Frothal  flew  forth  like  a  meteor; 
but  the  ciavk  cloud  met  it,  and  it  is  no  more.  No: 
Thubar,  I  will  never  yield  ;  my  fame  ft  all  furround 
me  like  light.  No:  I  will  never  yield,  king  of  flreamy 
Tora." 

He  went  forth  with  the  ffream  of  his  people,  but 
they  met  a  rock :  Fingal  flood  unmoved,  broken  they 
rolled  back  from  his  fide.  Nor  did  they  roll  in  fafely  ; 
the  fpear  of  ihe  king  purfued  their  flight.  The  field  is 
covered  with  heroes  A  riling  hill  preferved  the  fly- 
ing heft. 

Frothal  faw  their  flight.  The  rage  of  his  befrm 
role.  He  bent  his  eyes  to  the  ground,  and  called  the 
noble  Thubar.  "Thubar!  my  people  fled.  My  fame 
has  ceafed  to  rife.  1  will  fight  Lhe  king  ;  I  feel  my 
burning  foul.  Send  a  bard  to  demand  the  combat. 
Speak  not  agsinft  Pretrial's  words.  But,  Thubar!  I 
love  a  maid  :  fnt  dwells  by  Thano's  ftrdani,  the  white- 
bofomed  daughter  of  Herman,  Utha  with  the  fbftly- 
rolling  eyes.  She  feared  the  daughter f  of  Fniftore, 
and  her  foft  fighs  rofe,  at  my  depart  ore.  Tell  to  17- 
tha  that  I  am  low;   but  that  my  foul  delighted  in  her." 

Such  were  his  words,  refolved  to  fight.  But  the  foft 
figh  of  Utha  was  near.     She  had  followed  her  hero  o- 


A    POEM.  47 

ver  the  fea,  in  the  armour  of  a  man.  She  rolled  hep 
eye  en  the  youth,  in  fecret,  from  beneath  a  glittering 

helmet.  But  now  ihe  faw  the  bard  as  he  went,  and 
the  fpear  fell  thrice  from  her  hand.  Her  loofe  hair 
flew  on  die  wind.  Her  white  breaft  rpfe,  with  fighs. 
She  lifted  up  her  eyes  to  the  king  ;  (he  would  fpeik, 
but  thrice  me  failed. 

Fingal  heard  the  words  of  the  bard  ;  he  came  in  the 
ftrength  of  iteel.  They  mixed  their  deathful  fpears, 
and  raifed  the  gleam  of  their  fwords.  But  the  Heel  or 
Fingal  descended  and  cut  Frothal'a  fnield  in  twain.  His 
fair  fide  is  expofed ;  half -bent  he  forefees  his  death. 

Darknefs  gathered  on  Utha's  foul.  The  tear  rolled 
down  her  cheek-  She  rufhed  to  cover  the  chief  with 
her  fhield  ;  but  a  fallen  oak  met  her  Heps.  She  fell 
on  her  arm  of  mow;  her  fhield,  her  helmet  flew  wide. 
Her  white-bofora  heaved  to  the  fight ;  her  dark-brown 
hair  is  fpread  on  earth. 

Fingal  pitied  the  white-armed  maid :  he  flayed  the 
uplifted  fword.  The  tear  was  in  the  eye  of  the  king, 
as,  bending  forward  he  fpoke.  "  King  of  ftreamy  So- 
ra  !  fear  not  the  fword  of  Fingal.  It  was  never  flam- 
ed with  the  blood  of  the  vanquished  ;  it  never  pierced 
a  fallen  foe.  Let  thy  people  rejoice  along  the  blue  wa- 
ters of  Tora:  let  the  maids  of  thy  love  be  glad.  Why 
ihouideft  thou  fall  in  thy  youth,  king  cf  flreamy  Sora?" 

Frothal  heard  the  words  of  Fingal,  and  faw  the  fifing 
maid:  theyf  flood  in  filence,  in  their  beauty:  like  two 
young  trees  of  the  plain,  when  the  fhower  of  fpring  is 
on  their  leaves,  and  the  loud  winds  arc  laid. 

"  Daughter  of  Herman,"  laid  Frothal,  "  didfl  thou- 
come  from  Tora's  ftreams;  didfl  thou  come,  in  thy 
beauty,  to  behold  thy  warrior  low  ?  But  he  was  low  be- 
fore the  mighty,  maid  of  the  flow-rolling  eye  !  The 
feeble  did  not  overcome  the  fon  of  car-borne  x\nnir. 
Terrible  art  thou,  O  king  of  Morven!  in  battles  of  the 
fpear.  But,  in  peace,  thou  art  like  the  fun,  when  he 
E  a 

i  rro'ba]  and  Utta. 


48  CARRIC-tHURA  i 

looks  through  a  filentfhower:  the  flowers  lift  their  fair 
heads  before  him ;  and  the  gales  make  their  ruffling 
wings.  O  that  thou  wert  in  Sora  !  that  my  feaft  were 
fpread !  The  future  kings  cf  Sora  would  fee  thy  arms 
and  rejoice.  They  would  rejoice  at  the  fame  of  their 
fathers,  who  beheld  the  mighty  Fingal. 

"  Son  of  Annir,"  replied  the  king,  "  the  fame  of 
Sora's  race  fnall  be  heard.  When  chiefs  are  ftrong  in 
battle,  then  does  the  fong  arife  !  But  if  their  fwords  are 
ibretched  over  the  feeble  :  if  the  blood  of  the  weak  has 
ftained  their  arms ;  the  bard  fnall  forget  them  in  the 
fong,  and  their  tombs  mail  not  be  known.  The  Gran- 
ger fhall  come  and  build  there,  and  remove  the  heaped- 
np  earth.  An  half-worn  fword  fnall  rife  before  him ; 
and  bending  above  it  he  will  fay,  "  Thefe  are  the  arms 
of  chiefs  of  old,  but  their  names  are  not  in  fong. 
Come  thou,  O  Frothal,  to  the  feaft  of  Iniftore  ;  let  the 
maid  of  thy  love  be  there :  and  our  faces  will  brighten 
with  joy." 

Fingal  took  his  fpear,  moving  in  the  fteps  of  his 
might.  The  gates  of  Carric-thura  are  opened.  The 
feaft  of  /hells  is  fpread.  The  voice  of  mufic  aroie. 
Gladnefs  brightened  in  the  hall.  The  voice  of  Uilin 
was  heard  ;  the  harp  of  Sclma  was  fining.  Utha  re- 
joiced in  his  prefence,  and  demanded  the  fong  of  grief; 
the  big  tear  hung  in  her  eye,  when  the  foft  Crimora  f 
fpeke.  Crimora  the  daughter  of  Rinval,  Mho  dwelt  at 
Lotha's  ||  mighty  ftrean:.  The  tale  was  long,  but  love- 
ly ;  and  pleafed  the  biuihiug  maid  of  Tora. 

Crimora  *,,.  Who  ccmeth  from  the  hill,  like  a  cl^ud 
tinged  with  the  beam  of  the  weft?  Whofe  voice  is  that, 
loud  as  the  wind,  but  pltafaut  as  the  harp  of  Carriitt  ? 


t  There  is 

a  propriety  in  in! 

iodueing  this  epifode,  as  U.e  filuation  of  Crin 

fend  [TUiawe 

re  fo  Stellar 

||  Lotha  w 

le  of  one  of  the  great  river?   in  the  north  of  S 

land.    The  < 

rily  one  of  thtm 

that  ltiii  re'iir,*  .\  ra;ne  of  a  l.lce  foi.niS  i=  Lot 

..,-e;  but  whelht 

•  it  is  the  ri'.cr  mentioned  here,  the  tianflator 

not  pretend  t 

ufey- 

H  Cri- 

Rreat  foul.' 

*j  Perhaps 

uw'lau'il^enao 

uul  hurt  is  the  un;c  v.-ith  Carnl  the  fon  of  VLinii 

A    POEM.  49 

It  is  my  love  in  the  light  of  iteel;  but  fad  is  his  dark- 
ened brow.  Live  the  mighty  race  of  Fingal  ?  or  what 
diiuirbs  ray  Connal  ||  ? 

Carnal.  They  live.  I  faw  them  return  from  the 
chafe,  like  a  itream  of  light.  The  fun  was  en  their 
(hields.  Like  a  ridge  of  fire  they  defcended  the  hill. 
Loud  is  the  voice  of  the  youth ;  the  war,  my  love,  is 
near.  To-morrow  the  terrible  Dargo  comes  to  try 
the  force  of  our  race.  The  race  of  Fingal  he  defies ; 
the  race  of  battle  and  wounds*. 

Crimctrd.  Connal,  I  faw  his  fails  like  gray  mift  on  the 
(able  wave.  They  flowly  came  to  land.  Connal,  ma- 
ny are  the  warriors  of  Dargo  ! 

Connal,  Bring  me  thy  father's  Ikield;  the  bofly,  iron 
fhield  of  Rinval ;  that  fhield  like  the  full  moon  when 
it  moves  darkened  through  heaven. 

Ctimora  That  fhield  I  bring,  O  Connal;  but  it  did 
not  defend  my  father.  By  the  fpear  of  Gormar  he  fell. 
Tiiou  may'fl  fall,  O  Connal ! 

Connal.  Fall  indeed  I  may :  But  raife  my  tomb,  Cri- 
mora. Gray  Hones,  a  mound  of  earth,  ihali  keep  my 
memory.  Bend  thy  red  eye  over  my  tomb,  and  beat 
thy  mournful  heaving  breaft.  Though  fair  thou  art, 
my  love,  as  the  light ;  mere  plea&at  than  the  gale  of 
the  hill ;  yet  I  will  not  ftay.     Raife  my  tomb,  Crimora. 

Crimora.  Then  give  me  thofe  arms  of  light ;  that 
fwordj  and  that  fpear  of  fleel.  I  fhall  meet  Dargo  with 
thee,  and  aid  my  lovely  Connal.  Farewel,  ye  rocks  of 
Ardven !  ye  deer  !  and  ye  ftre.irns  of  the  hill !  We 
mall  return  no  mere.     Our  tombs  are  dlftant  far. 

li  And  did  thev  return  no  more  ?"  faid  Utha's  burn- 
ing figh.  "  Fell  the  mighty  in  battle,  and  did  Crimora 
live  ?  Her  fleps  were  lonely,  and  her  foul  was  fad  for 
Connal.  Was  he  not  young  and  lovely;  like  the  beam 
cf  the  letting  fun?"  Ullin  faw  the  virgin's  tear,  and 
B  3 

CuChuttin's  bard.    The  R3me  itfplf  is  proper  to  any  ha  d,as  it  fignifiei  a  fprit-.hU 


uil,  the  f.  n  of  D;a-r-n,  w.-.s  r.n«  of  the  mo'i  (jpnous  heroes  Of  Fi 

RRa! 

in  :i  l>..ttle  aga  hit  Dar  •  ,s  "ritofl  ;  but  whether  by  the  Ui^d  oj 

U»t«ffe.i  miirefijUatlJUuu  docs  not  Uaciii.u-u 

fO  CARRlC-THtTRA: 

took  the  foTtlv  trembling  harp :  the  fong  was  lovely, 
but  fad,  and  filence  was  in  Carric-thura. 

Autumn  is  dark  on  the  mountains ;  gray  mift  refts 
en  the  hills.  The  whirlwind  is  heard  on  the  heath. 
Dark  rolls  the  river  through  the  narrow  plain.  A  tree 
Hands  alone-on  the  hill,  and  marks  the  fiumbering  Con- 
nal.  The  leaves  whirl  round  with  the  wind,  and  fcrew 
the  grave  of  the  dead.  At  times,  are  feen  here,  the 
ghofis  of  the  deceafed,  when  the  muilng  hunter  alone 
ftalks  flowly  over  the  heath? 

Who  can  reach  the  fource  of  thy  race,  O  Connal  ? 
and  who  recount  thy  fathers  ?  Thy  family  grew  like 
an  oak  on  the  mountain,  which  meeteih  the  wind  with 
its  lofty  head.  But  now  it  is  torn  from  the  earth. 
Who  mall  fupply  the  place  of  Connal  ?  Here  was  the 
din  of  arms?  and  here  the  groans  of  the  dying.  Bloody 
are  the  wars  of  Fir  gal !  O  Connal  !  it  was  here  thou 
did  ft:  fall.  Thine  arm  was  like  a  florin;  thv  (word  a 
beam  of  the  fhy  ;  thy  height,  a  rock  on  the  plain--; 
thine  eyes,  a  furnace  of  fire,  Louder  than  a  llorm  was 
tfoy  voice,  in  the  battles  of  thy  Heel.  Warriors  fell 
by  thy  iword,  as  the  thifile  by  the  ftaff  of  a  boy. 
Dargo  the  mighty  came  on,  like  a  cbxid  of  thunder. 
His  brows  were  contracted  and  dark.  His  eyes  like 
two  caves  in  a  rock.  Bright  rofe  their  fwords  en  each 
Tide  ;  dire  was  the  clang  of  their  Heel. 

The  ■daughter  of  iviuval  was  near;  Crimora  bright 
in  the  armour  of  man ;  her  yellow  hair  is  loofe  behind, 
her'bow  is  in  her  hand.  She  followed  the  youth  to  the 
•  war*  Connal,  her  much4?elOved.  She  drew  the  firing 
.-uDargo;  but  erring  pierced  her  Connal.  He  falls 
like  an  oak  on  the  plain;  like  a  rock  from  the  (baggy 
]■'.!!.  What  fhall  me  do,  haplefs  maid!  He  bleeds; 
her  Connal  dies.  Ail  the  night  long  me  cries,  and  all 
th.e  day,  "  GConnal,  my  love,  and  my  friend!"  With 
grief  the  fad  mourner  dies.  Earth  here  inclofes  the 
bwiitil  pair  on  the  hill.  The  grafs  grows  between  the 
(bane's  of  the  tomb;  1  often  lit  in  the  mournful  fhade. 
'':  -   wind  ftghs  through  the  grafs;  their  memory  rufo- 


A    POFM.  j- 1 

es  on  my  mind.  Undifturbed  you  now  fleep  together ; 
the,  mountain  you  reft  alone. 

'*  And  iot\  be  your  reft,"  laid  Utha,  "  children  of 
ftre  imy.  Lotha.  3  will  remember  you  with  tears,  and 
my  fecret  long  lhalj  rife;  when  the  wind  is  in  the 
proves  of  Tora,  and  the  ftreain  is  roaring  near.  Tiien 
fhali  ye  come  on  mv  foul,  with  all  your  lovely  grief." 

Three  days  feafted  rhc  kings:  on  the  fourth  their 
white  fails  arofe.  The  winds  of  the  north  carry  the 
flilp  or  Fingal  to  MorVen's  woody  land.  But  the  fpi- 
ritofLoda,  fat,  in  his  cloud,  behind  the  fesps  at  Fro* 
thai.  He  bung  forward  wilh  all  his  Wafts,  and  fpread 
the  white-bofo'med  fails.  The  wound!  of  his  form 
were  not  forgot ;  he  ftill  feared  f  the  hand  of  the  king. 

+  The  lhiry  of  fin~*l,  ancithu  fpirit  of  Loda,  fuppof  d  tobeths  famous  Odin, 
is  the  tnnflcxt'-avse-Aiti  fi-:ti->r.  in  -'.11  i>:~  i-.'s  vc.ms.  '  It  i-  not,   however,  witho-rt 


SONGS  OF  SELMA. 


THE  arg!'mi,;;t. 


■children,  in  order  to  have  ti.cv..  t:ai  :,,..'•  c  v.  p.  I.ir.t,  n  \<  .,  .,  nc  ol  thoi'c 
OCcafionsthat  aff<  r.v,'.  -.he  i  I  ,  t  ■•fh*  •  c '  •■,:  ■  ,.■■..-.  I !  i-  caller  in. 
the  original,  The  bonj;sof  Schoa,  which  title  it  \»as  t&ought  proper  to  adopt 
in  the  translation. 

The  poem  i;>  entiidy  Uric,  and  h:.-  Rreat  variety  of  •.-.•;  US  cm 'or,  the  aridrefs 
to  the  even  in;:  Itar,  ui.t.  w.,i,  1.  h.ii-,  has,  in  ti.e  ur,,i.?i,  all  :  he  har- 
mony thntiiwmUcT'  -coulo  ;:ivc  :■■'■•  ■-■  ii-?0o\vn  with  all  th*t  i...i.  .-ilhty  and 
foitnefs,  which  the  fecne  dtlcnbcc  i, a: -rally  inlpirts. 

C  tar  of  the defcending  night  !  fair  is  thy  light  in  the 
*-*  weft !  thou  Ufteii  thy  unfhorn  head  from  thy  cloud : 
thy  fteps  are  ftately  on  thy  hill.  What  dolt  thou  he- 
hold  in  the  plain  ?  The  ftormy  winds  are  laid.  The 
murmur  of  the  torrent  comes  from  afar.  Roaring  waves 
climb  the  diftant  rock.  The  files  of  evening  are  on 
their  feeble  wings,  and  the  hum  of  their  courfe  is  on  the 
field.  What  do  ft  thou  behold,  fair  light  ?  But  thou 
doft  fmile  and  depart.  The  waves  come  with  joy  a- 
round  thee,  and  Lathe  thy  lovely  .hair  Farewel,  thou 
filent  beam  !  Let  the  light  of  Oihan's  foul  arife. 

And  it  does  arife  in  its  ftreiigth  !  I  behold  my  de- 
parted friends.  Their  gathering  is  on  Lora,  as  in  the 
cays  that  are  pafl. "  Fingal  comes  like  a  wati-y  column 
of  mill-:  his  heroes,  are  around.  And  fee  the  bards  of 
the  fong,  gray-haired  Ullin;  ftatciy  Ryno  ;  Alpui  f; 
with  the  tuneful  voice,  and  the  foft  complaint  of  Mino- 
na  !  How  are  ye  changed,  my  friends,  fince  the  days  of 
Selma's  feaft  !  wheu£$we  contended,  like  the  gales  of 
the  fprimr,  that,  fjyhig  over  the  hill,  by  turns  bend  the 
feebly-wi i ill li )i^  giafs. 


it  with  AlUon,  or  rather  Albin,  the  a 


Hry      Uritain    r<  iv.es 
or  the  country,  from 


THE  SONGS  OF  SELMA.  $j 

Minora  then  came  forth  in  her  beauty  ;  with  down- 
en  ft  look  and  tearful  e)  e  ;  her  hair  flew  flowly  on  the 
biaft  that  rufhed  umrcquent  from  the  hiil.  The  fouls 
of  the  heroes  were  fad  when  (he  railed  the  tuneful  voice; 
for  often  had  they  lien  the  grave*  of  Saigar  ||,  and  the 
dark  dwelling  of  white -bofomed  Colma  f .  Colma  left 
alone  on  the  hill,  with  ail  her  voice  of  mufic  !  Saigar 
promifed  to  come  :  but  the  night  defended  round. 
Hear  the  voice  of  Colma,  when  fhe  fat  alone  on  the  hill  ! 

Co!mu.  It  is  night ;  I  am  alone,  forlorn  on  the  hill  of 
ftoi-ms.  The  wind  is  heard  in  the  mountain.  The 
torrent  fhrieks  down  the  rock.  No  hut  receives  me 
from  the  rain  ;  forlorn  on  the  hill  of  winds. 

Rife,  moon  I  from  behind  thy  clouds  ;  ftars  of  the 
night  appear  !  Lead  me,  fome  light,  to  the  place  where 
my  love  relts  from  the  toil  of  the  chafe  !  his  how  near 
him,  unitrung  ;  his  dogs  panting  around  him.  But 
here  I  muft  fit  alone,  by  the  rock  of  the  mofty  ftream. 
The  ftream  and  the  wind  roar ,  nor  can  I  hear  the 
voice  of  my  love.  Why  delays  my  Saigar,  why  the  fun 
of  the  hiil,  hispromife  ]  Here  is  the  rock,  and  the  tree; 
and  here  the  rearing  ftream,  Thou  didit  promift  with 
nigh i  to  be  here.  Ah  !  whither  is  my  Saigar  gene  ? 
^\  .j;  thee  i  would  fly,  my  father;  with  thee,  my  bro- 
ther of  pride.  Our  race  have  long  been  foes  ;  but  we 
are  not  foes,  O  Saigar  ! 

Ceafe  a  little  while,  O  wind  !  ftream  be  thou  filent  a 
while  !  Jet  my  voice  be  heard  over  the  heath  ;  let  my 
wanderer  hem-  me.  Saigar!  it  is  I  who  call.  Here  is 
the  tree,  and  the  rock,  balgar,  my  love  !  I  am  here. 
Why  delaycft  thou  thy  coming  ?  Lo  !  the  moon  ap- 
•peareth.  The  hood  is  bright  in  the  vale.  The  rocks 
an:  gray  on  the  face  of  the  hill.  But  f  fee  him  not  on 
the  brow  ;  his  dogs  before  him  tell  not  that  he  is  com- 
ing.    Here  I  mult  fit  alone. 

But  who  are  thele  that  lie  beyond  me  on  the  heath  ? 
Arc  they  my  love  and  my  brother  ?  Speak  to  me,  Q 

'  Seal^'er."  i  tvintcr.' 

H-Cul-iite-ii,  ■  a  wuj.an  with  £ne  hair.' 


54  THE  SONGS  OF  SELMA. 

my  friends  !  they  anfwer  not.  My  fou}  is  tormented 
with  fears.  Ah  !  they  are  dead.  Their  fwords  are 
red  from  the  fight.  O  my  brother  !  my  brother  ! 
why  haft  thou  {lain  mySalgar  ?  why,  O  Salgar  i  haft 
thou  flain  my  brother  ?  Dear  were  ye  both  to  me  !' 
what  mail  I  fay  in  your  praife  ?  Thou  wert  fair  in  the 
hill  among  thoufands  ;  he  was  terrible  m  fight.  Speak 
to  me  ;  hear  my  voice,  fons  of  my  love  !  But  aia's  ! 
they  are  fitent  ;  filent  for  ever  !  Cold  a^e  their  breafts 
of  clav  !  Oh  !  from  the  rock  of  die  hill :  from  the  top 
of  the  windy  mountain,  fpeak  ye  ghofls  of  the  dead  ! 
fpeak,  1  will  not  be  be  afraid.  Whither  are  ye  gone  ro 
reft?  In  what  cave  of  the  hill  lhall  I  find  you?  No 
feeble  voice  is  on  the  wind:  no  anfwer  half-drowned 
in  the  ftorms  of  the  hill. 

I  fit  in  my  grief.  1"  wait  for  morning  in  my  tears. 
Rear  the  tomb,  ye  friends  of  the  dead  :  but  clofe  it  not 
till  Colma  come.'  My  life  flies  away  like  a  dream:  why 
mould  I  flay  behind  ?  Here  mail  I  reft  with  my  friends, 
by  the  ftream  of  the  founding  rock.  When  night 
comes  on  the  hill ;  when  the  wind  is  on  the  heath  ; 
my  ghoft  ihall  ftand  in  the"  wind,  and  mourn  the  death 
of  .my  friends.  The  hunter  ihall  hear  from  his  booth. 
He  mail  fear,  but  love  my  voice.  For  fweet  (hall  my 
voice  be  for  my  friends  ;  for  pleaiant  were  they  both  to 
me. 

Such  was  thy  fong,  Minona,  foftly-blufning  maid  of 
Torman.  Our  tears  defcended  for  Colma,  and  our 
iouls  were  fad.  Ullin  came  with  the  harp,  and  gave 
the  fong  of  Alpin.  The  voice  of  Alpin  was  pleafunt ; 
the  foul .  of  Ryno  was  a  beam  of  lire.  But  they  had 
refted  in  the  narrow  houfe :  and  their  voice  was  not 
heard  in  Selma.  Ullin  had  returned  pile  day  from  the 
chafe,  before  the  heroes  fell.  lie  heard  their  ftrife  on 
the  hill;  their  fong  was  foft,  but  fad.  They  mourned 
the  fall  of  Morar,  firft  of  mortal  men.  His  foul  was 
Like  the  foul  of  Fingal  ,  his  fword  like  the  fword  of 
Ofcar.  But  he  fell,  and  his  father  mourned :  his  fi- 
ller's eyes  were  full  of  tears.     Minona's  eyes  were  full 


THE  SONGS  or  SEIMA.  55 

<>f  tea'",  the  Gfter  of  car -home  Morar.  She  retired. 
-from  the  {br\j>  of  Ullin,  like  the  moon  in  the  welt, 
when  (1  Slower,  and  hides  her  fair  head  in 

a  <  ici  '".  I  touched  the  harp,  with  Uilin  ;  the  forig  of 
mcurnir  \ 

.  The  wind  and  the  rain  are  over  :  calm  is  the 
noon  of  day  The  clouds  are  divided  in  heaven.  O- 
:  e:-een  hills  flies  the  inconfiant  fun.  Red 
through  the  ftony  vale  comes  down  the  ftream  of  the 
hill.  Sweet  are  thy  murmurs,  O  ftream  !  but  more 
fweet  is  the  voice  I  hear.  It  is  the  voice  of  AJpin,  the 
fon  6f  fcng,  mourning  for  the  dead.  Bent  is  his  head 
bf  age,  and  red  his  tearful  eye.  Alpin,  thou  fon  of  long, 
why  alone  on  the  filent  hill?  why  complaineft  thou,  as 
a  blaft  in  the  wood  ?  as  a  wave  on  the  lonely  fhore  ? 

Alp\p.  My  tears,  O  Ryno  !  are  for  the  dead ;  my 
voice,  for  the  inhabitants  of  the  grave.  Tall  thou  art 
en  the  hill,-  fair  among  the  fens  of  the  plain.  But  thou 
(halt  fall  like  Morar  |  ;  and  the  mourner  fhall  fit  on 
ib.  The  hills  (hall  know  thee  no  more;  thy 
bow  fhall  lie  in  the  hail,  unftrung, 

Thou  wert  fwift,  O  Morar  !  as  a  roe  on  the  hill ; 
ten-ible  as  a  meteor  of  fire.  Thy  wrath  was  as  the 
ftorm.  Thy  fword  in  battle,  as  lightning  in  the  field. 
Thy  voice  was  like  a  lb-Lam  alter  rain;  like  thunder 
en  diltant  hills.  Many  fell  by  thy  arm  ;  they  were 
confumed  in  the  flames  of  thy  wrath.  But  when  thou 
didft  return  from  war,  how  peaceful  was  thy  brow  ! 
Thy  face  v.  as  like  the  fun  after  rain  ;  like  the  moon  in 
the  filence  of  night  ;  calm  as  the  breafl  of  the  lake 
when  the  loud  wind  is  laid. 

Narrow  is  thy  dwelling  now  ;  dark  the  place  of 
thine  abode.  With  three  fteps  I  compafs  thy  grave,  O 
thou  who  waft  fo  great  before  !  Four  Hones,  with  tlieir 
heads  of  mofs,  are  the  only  memorial  of  thee.  A  tree 
with  fcarce  a  leaf,  long  grafs  which  whittles  in  the 
mark  to  the  hunter  s  eye  the  grave  of  the  mighty 
Morar.     Morar  thou  art  bw  i.idcxd.     Thou  halt  uq 


56  THE  SONGS  OF  SELMA. 

mother  to  mourn  thee  ;  no  maid  with  her  tears  of  love. 
Dead  is  me  that  brought  thee  forth.  Fallen  is  the  daugh- 
ter of  .Morglan. 

Who  on  his  flan  is  this  ?  who  is  this,  whofe  head  is 
white  with  age,  whofe  eyes  are  red  with  tears,  who 
quakes  at  every  itep  ?  It  is  thy  father  ||,  O  Morar  !  the 
father  of  no  fon  but  thee.  He  heard  of  thy  fame  in 
battle  ;  he  heard  of  foes  difperfed.  He  heard  of  Mo- 
rar's  fame ;  why  did  he  not  hear  of  his  wound  ?  Weep, 
thou  father  of  Morar  ;  weep  ;  but  thy  fon  heareth  thee 
not.  Deep  is  the  fleep  cf  the  dead  ;  low  their  pillow 
of  duft.  No  mere  fliall  he  hear  thy  voice  ;  no  more 
mall  he  awake  at  thy  call.  When  fhall  it  be  morn  in 
the  grave,  to  bid  the  (lumberer  awake  ?  Farewel,  thou 
braveft  of  men  !  thou  conqueror  in  the  field  !  but  the 
field  mail  fee  thee  no  more  ;  nor  the  dark  wood  be 
lightened  with  the  iplendor  of  thy  fteel.  Thou  haft 
left  no  fon.  But  the  long  fhall  preferve  thy  name.  Fu- 
ture times  fhall  hear  of  thee  ;  they  fhall  hear  of  the  fal- 
len Morar. 

The  grief  of  all  arcfe,  but  mod  the  hurtling  figh  of 
Armin +.  lie  remembers  the  death  of  his  Ion,  who 
fell  in  the  days  of  his  youth.  Carmor  %  was  near  the 
hero,  the  chief  of  the  echoing  Galmal.  Why  burfls 
the  ugh  of  Arxnin,  he  faid  ?  Is  there  a  caufe  to  mourn  ? 
The  long  ccmec,  with  its  mufic,  to  melt  and  pleafe  the 
foul.  It  is  like  (oft  mifr,  that,  riling  from  a  lake,  pours 
on  the  filent  vale ;  the  green  flowers  are  filled  with  dew, 
but  the  fun  returns  in  his  ftrength,  and  the  milt  is  gone. 
Why  art  thou  fad,  O  Armin,  chief  of  the  fea-furround- 
ed  Gorma  r 

Sad!  I  am  indeed:  nor  fmall  my  caufe  of  woe!  Car- 
mor, thou  had  loft  no  fen ;  thou  haft  iofi  no  daughter  of 
beauty.  Colgar  the  valiant,  lives  ;  and  Annira,  faireft 
maid.  The  boughs  of  thy  family  fiourifh,  O  Carmor  ! 
Lut  Armin  is -the  laft  of  his  race.     Dark  is  thy  bed,  O 


ufc« 


i,  the  fon  of  CarthuT,  lord  <tf  '-mora,  one  of  the  we 
'a  h.-n..'     He  \.-n-.  itiicf,  or  jjttty  Icint  of  GoriUa,  i 


THE  SONGS  OF  SF.LMA.  f] 

Daura  !  and  d;   p  :'.  ?  :1.     i  ia  the  tomb.     "Wh- 
thou  awake  with  thy  fongs  ?  with  all  thv  voice  of  ma- 
ge ? 

Arife,  winds  of  autumn,  arife  ;  blow  upon  the  dark 
heath!  ifreams  of  the  mountains,  roar  1  fa 
ptfis,  in  the  top  of  the  oak  !    walk  through  broke© 
clouds,  O  moon]    fhow  by  intervals  thy  pale  face! 
bring  to  ray  mind  that  fad  night,  when  all  my  chi 
fell;  when  Arindal  the  mighty  fell ;  when  Daura  the 
lovely  railed.     Daura,  my  daughter  !   thou  wert  fair  ; 
fair  as  the  moon  on  the  hills  of  Fura  +  ;    white 
driven  fiaowj  fweet  as  the  hreathi  lg  gale.  Arjnd 
bow  was  ftrong,  thy  fpear  was  fwift  in  the  field :  thy 
look  was  like  milt  on  the  wave  ;   thy  fhield  a  red  cloud 
in  a  ftorm.    Armar  renowned  in  war,  came,  and 
Daura's  love  ;    he  was  not  long  deakd;    fajr  was  tjis 
hope  of  their  friends 

Erath,  fon  of  Odgaj,  repia  d  ;    for  his  brother  was 
fiain  by  Armar.     I  •        '  :;V1  li':-  a  fon 

fea:  fair  was  his  fltifl  tte  his  locks  of 

age;  calm  his  ierious  ha       .  n,h@faid, 

lovely  daug liter  ofAr         .     a  r 

fea,  btars  a  tree  on  its  fide;    red  ftine3  the  fruit  afar. 

There  Armar  waits  for  Daura.    I  came  to  c  irry  his  love 

ing  fea.     Shewentj    and  fhe  called  on  Ar< 

noar.     Nou  ■';:   anfwered,  but  the  fon  jj    of  the  rock. 

c!    my  love  1    why  tormen'teft' th 
with  fear:   hear,  fori  of  Ardnart, 
wb  ■>  cEk.!.  5!c_!    Erath  the  trai:        '  ';ing  to 

the  Ian  1.     She  lifted  up  her  voice,   au  1 
brother  and  her  father,,    ArindaJJ  Arniin!  none  to.  o- 
.  ira  ! 

Err    -  over   the  fea.      Arindal    my    for* 

defeended  iii  .  in  the   fpoils  af  the 

.      rlis  ajTOWS     .  nJe  ;    his  bo\sr  was 

Vol.     ". 


■ 

- 

,  .;..  lii.it  a..    .                  i  it  ' 

; 

5S  THE  SONGS  OF  SELMA. 

in  his  hand:  five  dark-gray  dogs  attended  his  ftepsv 
He  faw  fierce  Erath  on  the  more  :  he  feized  and  bound 
him  to  an  oak.  Thick- bend  the  thongs  ||  of  the  hide 
around  1: is  Kinbs ;  he  loads  the  wind  with  his  groans. 
Arindal  afcends  the  wave  in  his  boat,  to  bring  Dau- 
ra  to  land.  Armar  came  in  his  wrath,  and  let  fly  the 
gray  feathered  ftiaft.     It  fung  ;    it  funk  in  thy  heart. 

0  Arindal  my  fori  !  for  Erath  the  traitor  then  diedft. 
The  oar  is  flopped  at  once  :  he  panted  on  the  rock 
and  expired.  •  What  is  thy  grief,  O  Daura,  when 
round  thy  feet  is  poured  thy  brother's  blood  ?  The 
boat  is  broken  in  twain  by  the  waves.  Armar  plunges 
into  the  fea,  to  refcue  his  Daura,  or  die.  Sadden  abb.fi 
from  the  hill  comes  over  the  waves.  He  funk,  and  he 
rofe  no  more. 

Alone,  on  the  fea-beatrock,  my  daughter  was  heard 
to  complain.  Frequent  and  loud  were  her  cries  ;  nor 
could  her  father  relieve  her.  All  night  I  flood  on  the 
fhore.  I  law  her  by  the  faint  beam  of  the  moon.  All 
ni^ht  I  heard  her  cries;  Loud  was  the  wind  ;  and  the 
rain  beat  hard  on  the  fide  of  the  mountain.  Before 
morning  appeared,  her  voice  was  weak.  It  died  away, 
like  the  evening- breeze  among  the  graft  of  the  rocks. 
Spent  "A-ith  grief  fne  expired.  And  left  thee  Arrnin  a- 
fone.  Gene  is  my  ftrength  in  the  war,  and  fallen  my 
pride  among  women.  When  the  norms  of  the  moun- 
tain come  ;    when  the  north  lifts  the  waves  on  high : 

1  fit  by  the  founding  fhore,  and  leek  on  the  fatal' rock. 
Often  by  the  fetting  moon  I  fee  the  ghoftsof  my  children. 
Half- vie wk-fs,  they  walk  in  mournful  conference  toge- 
ther; WjiH  none  of  yon  fpeak  in  pity?  They  do  not 
regard  their  father.  I  am  fad,  O  Carmor,  aor  fmall 
is  my  cauie  of  wo  ! 

Such  were  the  words  of  the  bards  in  the  days  of  fong  ; 
■Vm  a  the  king  heard  the  mufic  of  harps,  and  the  tales 
of  other  times.  The  chiefs  gathered  from  all  their  hills, 
and  heard  the  lovely  found..    They  praifed  the  voice  {■- 

with  leatfccrn  ti;i*ȣS. 


THE  SONGS  OF  SELMA.  50 

of  Conn  !  the  firft  among  a  thoufand  bards.  Bat  age 
is  now  on  my  tongue  ;  and  my  foul  has  failed.  I  hear 
ibmetimes,  the  ghoftfi  of  bards,  and  learn  their  pleaianr 
fong.  But  memory  fails  in  my  mind:  I  hear  the  call 
of  pears.  They  fay,  as  they  pais  along,  why  does  Offi- 
an  fing  ?  Soon  mall  he  lie  m  the  narrow  houfe,  and  no 
bard  lhail  raife  his  fame.  Roll  on,  ye  dark -brown  years, 
for  ye  bring  no  joy  on  your  courfe.  Let  the  tomb  open 
to  Ofliau,  lor  his  ftreagth  has  failed.  The  foasof  fong 
are  gone  to  reft:  my  voice  remains,  like  a  b'afi,  that 
roars,  lonely,  on  a  fea  -furrounded  rock,  after  the  vials 
are  laid.  The  dark  mofs  whittles  there,  and  the  diitant 
mariner  fees  the  waving  trees. 
"  F  z 


CALTHON  AND  COLMAL : 

A     POEM. 


THE  AKOVMF.N  f. 


Calthon  married  Coimal,  bis  deliverer ;   a:id  Cllv.iii  returned  to  Morven. 

"Oleasant  is  the  voice  of  thy  fdhg,  thou  lonely  dwel- 
■*•  ler  of  the  rock.  It  comes  en  the  found  of  the  ftream, 
along  the  narrow  vale.  My  foul  awakes,  O  ftrai  g(  r ! 
in  the  mid^ft  of  tey  hall.  I  frretch  my  hand  to  the  fpear, 
as  in  the  eiays  of  <  thet  yeai  .-.  I  firetcf)  r  y  hand,  hut  it  is 
feeble  ;  and  the  figfc  of  my  bofom  grows.  Wilt  ffcou 
rot  lifteh,  fon  of  the  rock,  to  the  fong  of  Offias  ;  My 
fotil  is  full  of  other  times;  the  joy  of  my  youth  returns. 
Thus  the  ivr  \  e  weft,  after  the  fteps  of  Lis 

brightnefs  have  n  rved  behind  a  fiorm ;  the  green  hills 
lift  their  dewy  heads  :  the  bine  ftreams  re:oi:e  in  the 
vale.  The  aged  hero  comes  forth  on  his  ftaff,  and  his 
gra^  1  air  glitters  in  the  beam.  Eoft  thou  not  behold, 
fen  of  the  rock,  a  fliield  in  Ofiian's  hall  ?  It  is  marked 
with  ihe-  fti  okes  of  battle  ;  and  the  brightnefs  of  its  bof- 
fes  has  failed.  That  thield  the  great  Dunthalmo  bore, 
the  chief  of  ftreamy  Teutha.  Dunthalmo  lore  it  in  bat- 
tle, before  he  fell  by  Gffian's  fpear.  Liflen,fon  of  the 
rock,  to  the  tale  of  ether  years. 


a  pool  6r 

Raihmor  was  a  chief  of.Clutha.  The  feeble  dwelt 
in  his  hall.  The  gates  of  Rathmor  were  never  doled  : 
his  feaft  was  always  fpread.  The  fons  of  the  ftranger 
came,  and  blefTed  the  generous  chief  of  Clutha.  Birds 
raifed  the  long,  and  touched  the  harp  :  and  joy  bright- 
ened on  the  face  of  the  mournful.  Dumbalmo  came, 
in  his  pride,  and  ruflied  into  the  combat  of  Rathmor. 
The  chief  of  Clutha  overcame  ;  the  rage  of  Dunthal- 
mo  rofe.  He  came,  by  night,  with  his  warriors :  an  1 
the  mighty  Rathmor  fell.  He  fell  in  his  halls,  where 
his  feaft  was  often  fpread  for  ftrangers. 

Colmar  and  Calthon  were  young,  the  forts  of  car- 
borne  Rathmor.  They  came,  in  the  joy  of  youth,  in- 
to their  father's  hall.  They  behold  him  in  his  blood* 
and  their  burfting  tears  defcend.  The  foul  of  Dun- 
thalmo  melted  when  he  faw  the  children  of  youth  ;  he 
brought  them  to  Alteutha's  f  walls  ;  they  grew  in  the 
houfe  of  the  foe.  They  bent  the  bow  in  his  pre 
aud  came  forth  to  his  battles.  They  f^w  the  fallen 
walls  of  their  fathers  ;  they  few  the  greea  thorn  in  tne 
hall.  Their  tears  defcended  ir  fecr  j:  :  aid.  at  times, 
their  faces  were  mournful.  Dtrjithalmo  beheld  their 
grief:  his  darkening  foul  designed  their  death.  He 
ciofed  them  in  two  caves,  on  the  echoing  banks  of 
Teutha.  The  fun  did  not  come  there  with  his  beams; 
nor  the  moon  of  heaven  by  night.  The  ions  of  Rath- 
mor remained  in  darknefs,  and  forefaw  their  death. 

The  daughter  of  Diinthalmo  wept  in  (Hence,  the 
Fair-haired,  blue-eyed  Colraal  ||.  Her  eye  had  rolled  in 
fecret  on  Calthon;  his  lovelineis  fwelled  in  her  foul. 
She  trembled  for  her  warrior  ;  but  what  could  Colmal 
do  ?  Her  arm  could  not  lift  the  fpear ;  nor  was  the 
fword  fori  .  i  :  :r  Rde.  Her  white  breaii  never 
role  beneath  a  mail.  Neither  was  her  eve  the  terror 
F  3 

f  Al-teutha.  or  rather  Balteutha,  «  tbelnwn  of  Tweed,'  the  name  of 

. 

■.i-.    note,   tS  '-.    ;;rocJ 
that  it  was  .m«  'he  mii>  e.-Ti'   !   '■■:  •■■:.c  o^rthe  w  hi 

rcaUiiln. 
i  im  failis  to  ,iive  ..i...-.  uj  n« 


fa  CMLTHON!    AND    COLMAL  : 

of  heroes.  What  canft  thou  do,  O  Co'Imal !  for  the 
failing  chief  2  Her  fteps  are  unequal :  her  hair  is  foofe  : 
her  eye  iooks  wildly  through  her  tears.  She  came,  by 
night,  to  the  hal't ;  and  armed  her  lovely  form  in  lire! ; 
the  fteel  of  a  young  warrior,  who  fell  in  the  firft  ot  his 
battles.  She  came  to  the  cave  of  Calthcn,  and  hoofed 
the  thong  from  his  hands. 

a  Arrie,  ion  of  Rathmor,"  (he  laid,  "  arife,  the  night 
..  Let  us  fly  to  the  king  of  Seinia  J|,  chief  of 
fallen  Clutha  !  I  am  the  ion  of  Lamgal,  who  dwelt  in 
thy  father's  hall.  I  heard  of  thy  dark  dwelling  in  the 
cave,  and  my  foul  arofe.  Arife,  fon  of  Rathmor,  for 
the  night  is  dark."  "  E'eft  voice  1"  replied  the  chief, 
"  comeft  thou  from  the  darkly  rolling  clouds  ?  for  often 
the  ghofts  of  his  fathers  defcended  to  Calthon's  dreams, 
fftice  the  fun  has  retired  from  ids  eyes,  and  darkneis 
has  dwelt  around  him.  Or  art  thou  the  fon  of  Lam- 
;/;d,  the  chief  I  often  faw  in  Clutha  ?  But  frail  I  fly  to 
iinga!,  and  Colmar  my  brother  low?  ihall  I  fly  to  Mor- 
vtn,  and  the  hero  doled  in  night  ?  No :  give  me  that 
fpear,  fon  of  Lamgal,  Calthcn  will  defend  his  bro- 
ther/' 

i(  A  thoufand  warriors,"  replied  the  ma;d,  "  ftretch 
their  Ipears  round  car-borne  Colmar.  What  can  Cal- 
thon  do  againft  a  hoft  fo  great  ?  Let  us  fly  to  the  king 
ef  Morven,  he  will  come  wish  battle.  Mis  arm  is  ftretch- 
ed  forth  to  the  unhappy  ;  the  Kghtnirig  cf  his  iword  is 
i  onnd  the  weak.  Arife,  thou  on  of  Raihmer ;  the 
ffrades  of  night  will  fly  away.  Dunthafena  will  behold 
fteps  on  the  field,  and  thou  cauft  fall  in  thy 
youth." 

The  fighing  hero  rofe  ;  his  tears  defcend  for  car- 
'.'>rne  Colmar.  He  came  with  the  maid  to  Sennas 
kail  ;  but  he  knew  not  that  it  was  Colmal.     The  hel- 

f-Tterfe„  ta«r»»lT  wfiere  tteanro  Cafccn   fromenetnfc    ■    -■  ■■   t;  u.mv.  tro- 

■  ■  ,    (.lir.  ml  1. 1  lii  ir;  lv.  ,  I'.mk     ;ir<.b:i'v.  ■ 
";,is  ,  t  a  youlh  killed  in  l.i.  !.nt  Satt,c.  ;i,  mure   prn-.i   .     i 


A    POEM.  63 

roct  covered  her  lovely  face ;  and  her  breaft  role  be- 
nt ath  the  Heel.  ringal  returned  from  the  chafe,  and 
found  the  lovely  ftrangers.  They  were  like  two  beams 
of  light,  in  the  midft  of  the  hall.  The  king  heard  the 
talc  of  grief  ;  and  turned  his  eyes  around.  A  thoufand 
half-rofe  before  him  ;  claiming  the  war  cfTeu- 
tha.  I  came  with  my  fpear  from  the  hill,  and  the  joy 
cf  battle  n  1.  in  my  breaft :  for  the  king  fpoke  to  Qffian 
in  the  midft  of  the  people. 

"  Son  of  my  ftrength,"  he  faid,  "  take  the  fpear  of 
Fingal ;  go  to  Teutha's  mighty  ftream,  and  lave  the 
car-borne  Colmar.  Let  thy  fame  return  before  thee 
like  a  pleafant  gale  ;  that  my  foul  may  rejoice  over  my 
fon,  who  renews  the  renown  of  cur  fathers.  Offian  ! 
be  thou  a  ftorm  in  battle  ;  but  mild  when  the  foes  are 
low:  It  was-  thus  my  fame  arofe,  O  my  fon  ;  and  be 
thou  like  Selma's  chief.  When  the  haughty  come  to 
my  hails,  my  eyes  behold  them  not.  But  my  arm  is 
ftretched  forth  to  the  unhappy.  My  fword  defends  the 
weak." 

I  rejoiced  in  the  words  of  the  king  :  and  took  my  rat- 
tling arms.  Diaran  |  rofe  at  my  hue,  and  L'ai  go  ||  king 

t  niaran,  father  of  that  Connal  -;  ho  was  unfortunately  killed  by  Crimora,  hi» 

o,  the  Ion  of  OUath,  is  ccU'V?te<t  in  other  ;>oerns  by  Off.an.     He  is  faid 

or  wife,  o\      liisbodv,  :su    in    ;   fu.t  whether  it  is  of  Ofiian's  comuofi.. 

tion,  I  c:n,iu;  tote:  .i  i    ifcribed  tu  him,  and  L.  ;  mi 

tfome  traditions  mention  it  is  an,  imitation  by  fome  later  bard.    A* 

it  ha>  K)in.  poetical  merit,  1  have  futjuiued  it. 

n-'tlE  fpoafe  cf  Dargp  came  in  tears:   for  Dargo  was  no  more  !  The  hemes  figh 
I   <iv,-    ,  .  .  v  r.ij  :'.:.:iS;ia«i •  '   i l 

tf  re  thi  king  of  fpear* :   but  the  generous  glowed  in  bis  pre- 
.  ..i us ''tar. 
-,:,e  :a:ivil -n.d  rr.ofl   lovely?  who  but  CuHalVs  aui.ui-,  Ion!   Who  fat 
he  mighty  deeds' 

I  as  rummer-wind*. 
Alius!   Waat  liiall  the  her»c»  ia;  ;   lor  Da:g«  K  ii  -.iclo.-e;'.  hoar.    IV.e  i»  the  lovt- 
.   the  loi  k  it  which  was  firm  in  danger!   Why  baft  thou  failed  on  oer 
■ 

the  eyes  of  the  valiact;  me  was  lovely 
in  th.  : •    ..  -  .   oufe  o.  Dargo. 

g  with  its  clouds;  where  rs  the 
in  the  toadi  of  Da 

!iou  fhut  the  narrow  houfef  i 

M  :  -■  i.  !<ar;  o. 

.-.  Lho'klofty  aalt  iiut  fUuiwc  uuw  dwulls 
.,--» .. ..-  ~-:iu. 


64  CALTHON  AND  COLMAL : 

of  fpcars.  Three  hundred  youths  followed  our  fteps : 
the  lovely  ftrangers  were  at  my  fide.  Dunthalmo  heard 
the  found  of  our  approach  ;  he  gathered  the  firength 
of  Teutha.  He  flood  on  a  hill  with  his  hoft ;  they 
were  like  rocks  broken  with  thunder,  when  their  bent 
trees  are  finged  and  bare,  and  the  ftreams  of  their  chinks 
have  failed. 

The  ftream  of  Teutha  rolled,  in  its  pride,  before  the 
gloomy  foe.  I  fent  a  bard  to  Dunthalmo,  to  offer  the 
combat  on  the  plain  ;  but  he  fmiled  in  the  darknefs  of 
his  pride.  His  v.nfettled  hofi  moved  on  the  hill  ;  like 
the  mountain-cloud,  when  the  blaft  has  entered  its 
womb,  and  fcatters  the  curling  gloom  on  every  fide. 

They  brought  Colmar  to  Teutha's  bank,  bound  with 
a  thoufand  thongs.  Tlie  chief  is  fad,  but  lovely,  and 
his  eye  is  on  his  friends  j  for  we  flood,  in  our  arms, 
on  the  oppofite  bank  of  Teutha.  Dunthalmo  came 
with  his  ipear,  and  pierced  the  hero's  fide :  he  rol- 
kd  on  the  bank  in  his  blood,  and  we  heard  his  broken 
fighs. 

Calthon  rufned  into  the  ftream:  I  bounded  forward  on 
my  fpcar.  Teutha's  race  fell  before  us.  Night  came 
rolling  down.  Dunthalmo  refted  on  a  rock,  amidft  an 
aged  wood.  The  rage  of  his  bofom  burned  agaiml  the 
car-borne  Calthon.  But  Calthon  ftcod  in  his  grief;  he 
mourned  the  fallen  Colmar  ;  Colmar  flam  in  youth,  be- 
fore his  fame  arofe. 

I  bade  the  fong  of  woe  to  rife,  to  footh  the  mournful 
chief :  but  he  flood  beneath  a  tree,  and  often  threw  his 
fpear  on  earth.  The  humid  eye  of  Colmal  rolled  near 
in  a  fecret  tear:  flic  forefaw  the  fall  of  Dunthalmo,  or 
of  Clutha's  battling  chief. 

l\ow  half  the  night  Lad  paned  away.  Silence  and 
darknefs  were  on  the  field  :  fleep  refted  on  the  eyes  of 
the' heroes:  Calthon's  fettling  foul  was  ftilL  His  eyes 
were  half-clofed  ;  bur  the  murmur  of  Teutha  bad  not 
d  in  his  ear.  Pale,  and  mewing  his  wounds,  the 
■  came:  he  bended  his  bead  over  the 
hero,  and  raiie  rbh:"e. 


A  POEM.  6? 

"  Sleeps  the  fon  ofRathmor  in  his  might,  and  his 
brother  low  ?  Did  we  not  rife  to  the  chafe  together,  and 
purine  the  dark-hrovvn  hinds  ?  Colmar  was  not  forgot 
till  he  fell ;  till  death  had  blafted  his  youth.  I  lie  pale 
beneath  the  rock  of  Lona.  O  let  Calthon  rife  !  the 
morning  comes  with  its  beams ,  and  Dunthalmo  will 
difhenour  the  fallen."  He  palled  away  in  his  blaft. 
The  riling  Calthon  law  the  fteps  of  his  departure,  He 
rufhed  in  the  found  of  bib  fteel ,  and  unhappy  Cohnal 
rdfe.  She  followed  her  hero  through  night,  and  drag- 
ged her  fpi  ar  behind.  But  when  Calthon  came  to  Lo- 
:k,  he  found  his  fallen  brother.  The  rage  of  his 
boibm  rofe,  and  he  rufhed  among  the  foe.  The  groans 
of  death  afcend.  They  clofe  around  the  chief.  He  is 
bound  in  the  midft,  and  brought  to  gloomy  Dunthal- 
mc.  The  fhout  of  joy  arofe  ;  and  the  hills  of  night  re- 
plied. 

I  ftarted  at  the  found  :  and  took  my  father's  fpear. 
Diaran  role  at  my  fide ;  and  the  youthful  ftrength  of 
Dargo.  We  miffed  the  chief  of  Clutha,  and  our  fouls 
wee  fad.  I  dreaded  the  departure  of  my  fame  ;  the 
pride  of  my  valour  re  fe.  "  Sons  of  Morven/'  I  Lid,  "  it 
is  not  thus  our  fathers  fought.  They  relied  not  on 
the  field  of  firangtrs,  when  the  foe  did.  not  fall  before 
them.  Their  ftrength  was  like  the  eagles  of  heaven  ; 
their  renown  is  in  the  long.  But  our  people  fall  by  de- 
.  nd  our  fame  begins  to  depart.  What  mall  the 
king  oi  Morveh  fay,  if  Gfm.n  conquers  notatTeutha? 
Rife  in  your  fteel,  ye.  warriors,  and  follow  the  found  of 
I  courfe.    He  will  not  return,  but  renowned,  to 

the  echi  ing  walls  of  Selma." 

Morwiug  rofe  on  the  blue  waters  of  Teutna;  Colmal 
ftood  before  me  in  tears.  She  told  of  the  chief  of  Clu- 
tha :  and  thrice  the  fpear  fell  from  her  hand.  My 
wrath  turned  agair.it  the  ftranger  ;  for  my  foul  trem- 
bled for  Calthon.  "  Son  oi  the  feeble  hand,"  I  laid, 
"  do  Teutha's  warriors  fight  with  tears  ?  The  battle  is 
not  won  with  grief;  nor  dwells  the  figh  in  the  foul  of 
war.     Go  to  the  deer  of  Carmun,  or  the  lowing  herds 


$6  CALTHON  AMD  COLMAt:    A  POEM, 

©f  Teutha.     But  leave  thefe  arms,  thou  fon  of  fear  :  a 
warrior  may  lift  them  in  battle." 

I  tore  the  mail  from  her  moulders.  Her  fnowy  breaft 
appeared.  She  bent  her  red  face  to  the  ground.  I 
looked  in  filence  to  the  chiefs.  The  fpear  fell  from  my 
hand  ;  and  the  figh  of  my  befom  role.  But  when  I 
heard  the  name  of  the  maid,  my  crowding  tears  de- 
fcended.  1  bleffed  the  loA'ely  beam  of  youth,  and  bade 
the  battle  move. 

Why,  fon  of  the  rock,  mould  Offian  tell  how  Teu- 
tha's  warriors  died  ?  They  are  now  forgot  in  their  land ; 
and  their  tombs  ar.e  not  found  on  the  heath.  Years  came 
on  with  their  ternpefis :  and  the  green  mounds  moul- 
dered away.  Scarce  is  the  grave  of  Dunthalmo  feen, 
or  the  place  where  he  fell  by  the  fpear  of  Qflian.  Some 
gray  warrior,  half  blind  with  age,  fitting  by  night  at 
the  flaming  oak  of  the  hall,  tells  now  my  actions  to  his 
fons,  and  the  fall  of  the  dark  Dunthalmo.  The  faces  of 
youth  bend  fidelong  towards  his  voice  ;  furprife  and  joy 
bum  in  their  eyes. 

I  found  the  fon  f  of  Rathrhor  bound  to  an  oak  ;  my 
fword  cut  the  thongs  from  his  hands.  And  I  gave  him 
the  white-bofomed  Colmal.  They  dwelt  in  the  halls  of 
Teutha  ;  and  Offian  returned  to  Selma. 


LATHMON: 

A    POEM. 

THE   ARGUMENT. 
Lithmon,  a  Eritifh  prince,  taking  advantage  of  Finpit's  ab'erce  in  ] 


'  i         Vii  [iHs  hit.:    JBnci  !       I   .-•  |  I    • 
v.ith  t.V.  rl.it  .ijijea-vnce  or  '  i ...;  ;1  .mi  iht  tout  ot  Murvtn,  ar.d  end.-,  it  n..»y  be 
fuppoicd,  about  noon  '.he  :i*.xt  <!  17. 

CELMA,  thy  halls  are  filent.  There  is  no  found  in  the 
^  woods  of  Morven.  The  wave  tumbles  alone  on 
the  coaft.  The  filent  beam  of  the  fun  is  on  the  field. 
The  daughters  of  Morven  come  forth,  like  the  bow  of 
the  mower  ;  they  look  towards  green  [Jllin  for  the 
white  fails  of  the  king.  He  had  promifed  to  return, 
but  the  winds  of  the  north  arofe. 

Who  pours  from  the  eaftfrn  hill,  like  a  flream  of 
darknefs  ?  It  is  the  hoft  of  Lathmon.  He  has  heard  of 
the  abfence  of  Fingal.  He  trulls  in  the  wind  of  the 
north.  Kis  foul  brightens  with  joy.  Why  doft  thou 
come,  Lathmon?  The  mighty  are  not  in  Senna.  Why 
comeft  thou  with  thy  forward  fpear  ?  Will  the  daugh- 
ters of  Morven  fight  ?  B^it  flop,  O  mighty  ftream,  in 
thy  courfe  !  Does  not  Lathmon  beheld  the'e  fails  ? 
Why  doll  thou  vanifh,  Lathmon,  like  the  mill  of  the 
lake  ?  But  the  fqually  florin  is  behind  thee;  Fingal  pur- 
futs  thy  fteps! 

The  king  of  Morven  flarted  from  fleep,  as  we  rol- 
led on  the  dark -blue  wave.  He  ftretched  his  hand  to 
his  fpear,  and  his  heroes  role  around.  We  knew  that 
hebadfeen  his  fathers^  for  they  often  defcended  to  his 
dreams,  when  the  fword  of  the  foe  rofe  over  the  land  ; 
and  the  battle  darkened  before  us.  "  Whither  haft 
thou  fled,  O  wind?"  laid  the  king  of  Morven,  "  Doit 


68  LATHMON: 

thou  ruffle  in  the  chambers  of  the  fouth,  and  purfue 
the  (hower  in  other  lands  ?  Why  doft  thou  not  come 
to  my  fails  ?  to  the  blue  face  of  my  feas  ?  The  fee  is  in 
the  land  of  Morven,  and  the  king  is  abient.  But 
let  each  bind  on  his  mail,  and  each  affume  his  fhield. 
Stretch  every  fpear  over  the  wave  :  let  every  fword  be 
unlheathed.  Lathmonf  is  before  us  with  his  hoft:  he 
that  fled  I]  from  Fin  gal  on  the  plains  of  Lona.  But  he 
returns,  like  a  cohered  ftream,  and  his  roar  is  between 
our  hills  " 

Such  were  the  words  of  Fingal.  We  rufhed  into 
Carmona's  bay.  Offian  afcended  the  hill  ;  and  thrice 
ftruck  his  bbffy  fhield.  The  rock  of  Morvcn  replied  ; 
and  the  bounding  roes  came  forth.  The  foes  were 
troubled  in  ray  preferice' :  and  collected  their  darkened 
hoft ;  for  I  flood,  like  a  cloud  on  the  hill,  rejoicing  in 
the  arms  of  my  youth. 

Morni  f  fat  beneath  a  tree,  at  the  roaring  waters  of 
Strumonff:  his  locks  of  age  are  gray:  he  leans  for- 
ward on  hi.s  ftaff ;  young  Gaul  is  near  the  hero,  hear- 
ing the  battles  of  his  youth.  Often  did  he  rife,  in  the 
fire  of  his  foul,  at  the  mighty  deeds  of  Morni.  The  a- 
ged  heard  the  found  of  Offian's  fhield  :  he  knew  the 
fign  of  battle.  Heftarted  at  once  from  his  place.  His 
gray  hair  parted  on  his  back.  lie  remembers  the  ac- 
tions rS  other  years/' 

"  My  ion,  he  faid  to  fair-haired  Gaul,  "  I  hear  the 
found  of  battle.  The  king  of  Morven  is  returned,  the 
Cgn  of  war  is  heard.  Go  to  thehalk  ofStrumon,  arid 
bring  his  arms  to  Morni.  Bring  the  arms  which  my 
father  wore  in  his  age,  for  my  arm  begins  to  fail.  Take 


■ 


A    POE<\f.  6<) 

thou  thy  armour,  O  Gaul :  and  rufh  to  the  firft  of  thy 
battles.  Let  thine  arm  reach  to  the  renown  of  thy  fa- 
thers. Be  thy  courfe  in  tlie  field,  like  the  eagle's  wing. 
Why  ftiouldft  thou  fear  death,  my  fon  ?  the  valiant  fall 
with  fame  ;  their  fhields  turn  the  dark  ftream  of  dan- 
ger away,  and  renown  dwells  on  their  gray  hairs.  Doit 
thou  not  fee,  O  Gaul,  how  the  Heps  of  my  age  are  ho- 
noured ?  Morni  moves  forth,  and  the  young  meet  him, 
with  reverence,  and  turn  their  eyes,  with  filent  joy,  on 
his  courfe.  But  I  never  fled  from  clanger,  my  fon !  my 
fword  lightened  through  the  darknefs  of  battle.  The 
ftranger  melted  before  me  ;  the  mighty  were  blafted 
in  my  prefence." 

Gaul  brought  the  arms  to  Morni :  the  aged  warriof 
covered  himfelf  with  fteeL  He  took  the  fpea-r  in  his 
hand,  which  was  often  ftained  with  the  blood  of  the 
valiant.  He  came  towards  Fingal,  his  fon  attended  his 
ileps.  The  fon  cf  Comhal  rejoiced  over  the  warrior, 
when  he  came  in  the  locks  of  his  age* 

"  King  of  the  roaring  Strumon ! "  faid  the  riling  joy 
of  Fingal  ;  "  do  I  behold  thee  in  arms,  after  thy 
ftrength  has  failed  ?  Often  has  Morni  fhone  in  battles, 
like  the  beam  of  the  riling  fun  ;  when  he  dhperies  the 
ftorms  of  the  hill,  and  brings  peace  to  the  glittering 
fields.  But  why  didft  thou  not  reft  in  thine  age  ?  Thy 
renown  is  in  the  long.  The  people  behold  thee,  and 
blefs  the  departure  of  mighty  Morni.  Why  didft  thou 
not  reft  in  thine  age?  For  the  foe  will  vanifh  before  Fin- 
gal." 

"  Son  of  Comhal,"  replied  the  chief,  "  the  ftrength 
of  Morni's  arm  has  failed.  I  attempt  to  draw  the  fword 
of  my  youth,  but  it  remains  in  its  place.  I  throw  the 
fpear,  but  it  falls  fhort  of  the  mark  ;  and  I  feel  the 
weight  of  my  fhield.  We  decay  like  ihe  grafs  of  the 
mountain,  and  our  ftrength  returns  v.o  more.  I  have  a 
fon,  O  Fingal,  his  foul  has  delighted  in  the  actions  of 
Morni's  youth;  but  his  fword  has  net  been  lifted  a* 
gainft  the  foe,  neither  has  his  fame  begun.  I  com? 
with  him  to  battle;  to  direcl  big  arm.     His  renews 

Vol.  j-R  (} 


yo  LATHMON  : 

will  be  a  fan  to  my  foul,  in  the  dirk  hour  of  my  de- 
parture. O  that  the  name  of  Morni  were  forgot  a- 
mcng  the  people  !  that  the  heroes  would  only  fay.,  Be* 
hold  the  father  of  Gaul." 

"  King  of  Strumon,"  Fingal  replied,  "  Gaul  mall 
lift  the  fword  in  battle.  But  he  fhall  li;t  it  before  Fin- 
gal;  my  arm  fhall  defend  his  youth.  But  reft  thou 
in  the  halls  of  Selma  ;  and  hear  of  our  renown.  Bid 
the  harp  be  ftrung  ;  and  the  voice  of  the  bard  arife,  that 
thofe  who  fall  maty  rejoice  in  their  fame  ;  and  the  foul 
of  Morni  brighten  with  gladnefs.  CiTian  I  thou  haft 
fought  in  battles:  the  blood  of  ftrangers  is  on  thy  fpear: 
lee  thy  courie  be  with  Gaul  in  the  ftrife  ;  but  depart 
•not  from  the  fide  of  Fingal ;  left  the  foe  find  you  alone; 
and  your  lame  foil  at  once." 

I  fawf  Gaul  in  his  arms,  and  my  foul  was  mixed 
with  his  :  for  the  fire  of  the  battle  was  in  his  eyes  !  he 
looked  to  the  foe  withjoy.  We  fpoke  the  words  of 
friendship  in  feeret ;  and  the  lightning  of  our  fwords 
poured  together  ;  for  we  drew  them  behind  the  wood, 
and  tried  the  ftfength  of  our  arms  en  the  empty  air. 

Night  came  down  on  Morven.  Fingal  fat  at  the 
beam  of  the  oak.  Moi  ni  fat  by  his  fide  with  all  his  gray 
waving  lockb.  Their  difcourfe  is  of  other  times,  and 
the  actions  of  their  fathers.  Three  bards,  at  times, 
touched  the  harp  ;  and  Ullin  was  near  with  his  fong. 
He  fung  of  the  mighty  Comhal ;  but  darknefs  gather- 
ed ||  en  Morni  s  brow.  He  roiled  his  red  eye  on  Ullin ; 
and  the  long  of  the  bard  ceafed.  Fingal  obferved  the 
aged  hero,  arid  he  mildly  fpoke. 

"  Chief  of  Strumon,  why  that  darknefs  ?  Let  the 
days  of  ether  years  be  forgot,  Our  father's  conteiid  d 
in  battle  ;  but  we  meet  together,  at  the  feaft.  Our 
fwords  are  turned  on  the  foes,  and  they  melt  before  v.s 


s  1,'V.*.:-  ■'"  tt:s  ow«li.uji  ujj'„j-i;->  *itii  ^uircfiry  ar.j  sr'JK']  li;  :<r. 


A  PORM.  71 

on  the  field.  Let  the  days  of  our  fathers  be  forgot, 
king  of]  ton*' 

"  King  of  Morven,"  replied  the  chief,  "I  remember 
thy  father  with  joy.  He  was  terrible  in  battle  ;  the 
rage  of  the  chief  was  deadly.  My  eyes  were  full  of 
tears,   when  the  king  of  heroes  fell.     The  valiant  fall, 

0  Fingal,  and  the  feeble  remain  on  the  hills.  How 
many  heror*  ha  |  d  away,  in  the  days  of  Morni  ! 
And  T  d  Bran  the  battle  ;  neither  did  I  fly  from 
t                       ;  valiant.  Now  let  the  friends  of  Fin  gal  reft ; 

1  ight  isaround ;  that  they  may  rife,  with  ftrength, 
to  battle  againft  car  borne  Lathmon.  I  hear  the  found 
of  his  hoft,  like  thunder  heard  on  a  diftant  heath.  Of- 
fiaii  !  and  fair-haired  Gaul  !  ye  are  fwift  in  the  race. 
Obferve  the  foes  of  Fingal  from  that  M'oody  hill.     But 

..ur  fathers  are  not  near  to  fhield 
you.  Let  not  your  fame  fall  at  once.  The  valour  of 
yo    h  may  fail." 

We  heard  the  words  of  the  chief  with  joy,  and  mov- 
ed in  the  clang  of  our  arms.  Our  fteps  are  on  the 
woody  hill.  Heaven  burns  with  all  ks  ftars.  The  me- 
teors of  death  fly  over  the  held.  The  diftant  none  of 
the  foe  reached  our  ears.  It  was  then  Gaul  fpoke,  hi 
his  valour;  his  hand  half-unfheathed  the  fword. 

"  Son  of  Fingal,"  he  laid,  "  why  burns  the  foul  of 
Gaul  ?  my  heartbeats  high.  My  fteps  are  difordered; 
and  my  hand  trembles  on  my  fword.  When  I  look 
towards  the  foe,  my  foul  lightens  before  me,  and  I  fee 
their  ileeolng  hoft.  Tremble  thus  the  fouls  of  the  vali- 
ant in  battles  of  the  fpear  ?  How  would  the  foul  of 
Morni  rife  if  we  ihould  ruih  on  the  foe  !  Our  renown 
would  grow  in  the  fong  ;  and  our  fteps  be  ftately  in  the 
eyes  of  the  brave." 

"  Son  of  Morni,"  I  replied,  "  my  foul  delights  in 
battle  I  delight  to  mine  in  battle  alone,  and  . 
mv  name  to  the  bards.  But  what  if  the  foe  mould  pre- 
vail ;  (hall  I  behold  the  eyes  of  the  king  ?  They  are 
terrible  in  his  diipleafure,  and  like  the  flames  of  death. 
But  I  will  not  behold  them  in  his  wrath.  Ofiian  fhall 
G  a 


*}%  LATHMON. 

prevail  or  fall.  But  frail  the  fame  of  the  vanquifhed 
rife  ?  They  pais  away  like  a  fhadow.  But  the  fame  of 
Offian  frail  rife.  His  deeds  mall  be  like  his  fathers. 
Let  us  rufh  in  our  arms  ;  fon  of  Morni,  let  us  rufh  to 
battle.  Gaul  !  if  thou  malt  return,  go  to  Selma's  lofty 
wall.  Tell  to  Everallin  that  I  fell  with  fame  ;  carry 
this  fword  to  Branno's  daughter.  Let  her  give  it  to  Of- 
ear,  when  the  years  of  his  youth  fhall  arife." 

"  Son  of  Fingal,"  Gaul  replied  with  a  figh ;  "  fhall 
J  return  after  Oman  is  low !  What  would  my  father 
fay,  and  Fingal,  king  of  men  I  The  feeble  would  turn 
their  eyes  and  fay,  heboid  tb»  mighty  Gaul  -who  deft  bis 
friend  in  his  blood ! ' '  Ye  fhall  not  behold  me,  ye  feeble, 
but  in  the  midft  of  my  renown*  Oman  !  I  have  heard 
from  my  father  the  mighty  deeds  of  heroes ;  their 
mighty  deeds  when  alone ;  for  the  foul  increafes  in  dan- 

"  Son  of  Morni,"  I  replied,  and  ftrode  before  him  on 
the  heath,  "  our  fathers  fhall  praife  our  valour,  when 
they  mourn  our  fall.  A  beam  of  gladnefs  mall  rife  on 
their  fouls,  when  their  eyes  are  full  of  tears.     They  will 

fay,  Our  font  have  not  fallen  lite  the  graft  of  the  field,  for  they 
fpread  death    around  them.     But  why    fhould  we    think  of 

the  narrow  houfe  ?  The  fword  defends  the  valiant. 
But  death  purfues  the  flight  of  the  feeble ;  and  their 
renown  is  not  heard." 

We  rufhed  forward  through  night ;  and  came  to  the 
roar  of  a  ftream  which  bent  its  blue  courfe  round  the 
foe,  through  trees  that  echoed  to  its  noife ;  we  came  to 
the  bank  of  the  ftream,  and  faw  the  fleeping  hoft. 
Theirfiresweredecayedon  theplain:  andthe  loneiyfteps 
of  their  fcouts  -were  diitant  far.  I  ftretched  my  fpear  be- 
fore me  to  fupport  my  fteps  over  the  ftream.  But  Gaul 
took  my  hand,  and  fpoke  the  words  of  the  valiant. 

"  Shall  the  fon  of  fingal  rufh  on  a  fleeping  foe  ? 
Shall  he  come  like  a  blai't  by  night,  when  it  overturns 
the  young  trees  in  fecret  ?  Fingal  did  not  thus  receive 
his  fame,  nor  dwells  renown  on  the  gray  hairs  of  Morni, 
for  actions  like  thefe.     Strike,  Ofiian,  ftrike  the  fhieli 


A   POEM.  73 

•f  battle,  and  let  their  thousands  rife.  Let  them  meet 
Gaul  in  his  firft  battle,  that  be  may  try  the  ftrength  of 
his  arm." 

My  foul  rejoiced  over  the  warrior,  and  my  burfting 
tears  defcendcd.  u  And  the  foe  flia.ll  meet  Gaul,"  I 
faid  :  "  the  fame  of  Morni's  ion  IhaU  arife.  But  rufh 
not  too  far,  my  hero  :  let  the  gleam  of  thy  fteel  be  near 
to  Offian.  Let  our  hands  join  in  {laughter.  Gaul! 
doll  thou  not  beheld  that  rock  ?  Its  gray  fide  dimly 
gleams  to  the  ft ^rs.  If  the  foe  fnall  prevail,  let  our  back. 
be  towards  the  rock.  Then  {hail  they  fear  to  approach 
our  fpears  ;  for  death  is  in  our  hands." 

I  (truck  thrice  my  echoing  fhield.  The  ftarting  foe 
arofe.  We  ruflied  on  in  the  found  of  our  arms.  Their 
crowded  fteps  fly  over  the  heath  ;  for  they  thought 
that  the  mighty  Fingal  came ;  and  the  ftrength  of  their 
arms  withered  away.  The  found  of  their  flight  was 
like  that  of  flame,  when  it  ruftles  through  the  blafted 
groves.  It  was  then  the  fpear  of  Gaul  flew  in  its 
ftrength  :  it  was  then  his  fword  a'-ofe.  Cremor  fell , 
and  mighty  Leth.  Dunthormo  ftruggled  in  his  blood. 
The  fteel  rufhed  through  Crotha's  fide,  as  bent,  he 
rofe  on  his  fpear  ;  the  black  ftream  poured  from  the 
wound,  and  hilled  on  the  half-extinguifhed  oak.  Cath- 
min  faw  the  fteps  of  the  hero  behind  him,  and  afcend- 
ed  a  blafted  tree  ;  but  the  fpear  pierced  him  from  be- 
hind. Shrieking,  panting,  he  Fell ;  mots  and  wi- 
thered branches  purine  his  fall,  and  ftrew  the  blue  arms 
of  Gaul. 

Sueh  were  thy  deeds,  fon  of  Momi,  in  the  firft  of 
thy  battles.  Nor  flept  the  fword  by  thy  fide,  thou 
laft  of  Fingal's  race !  Oflian  rufned  forward  in  his 
ftrength,  and  the  people  fell  before  him ;  as  the 
grais  by  theftaffof  the  boy,  when  he  whiffles  along  the 
field,  and  the  gray  beard  of  the  tJi-fte  falls.  But  care- 
lefs  the  youth  moves  on ;  his  fteps  are  towards  the  defert. 
Gray  morning  rofe  around  us;  the  winding  itreams 
are  bright  along  the  heath.  The  foe  gathered  on  a  hill; 
•ud  the  rage  of  Lathmon  rofe.  He  bent  the  red  eve 
G  3 


?4  lathmon: 

of  his  wrath  :  he  is  filent  in  his  rifing  grief.  He  often 
ftruck  his  bofiy  fhield  ;  and  his  lleps  are  unequal  on 
the  heath.  I  law  the  diftant  darknefs  of  the  hero,  and 
I  fpoke  to  Morni's  foh. 

"  Car-borne  +  chief  of  Strumon,  doft  thou  behold  the 
foe  ?  They  gather  on  the  hill  in  their  wrath.  Let  cur 
fteps  be  towards  the  king  ||.  He  fhall  arife  in  his 
ftrength,  and  the  hoft  of  Lathmon  vanifh.  Our  fame 
is  around  us,  warrior,  the  eyes  of  the  aged  t  will  re- 
joice. But  let  lis  fly,  fen  of  Morni,  Lathmon  defcends 
the  hill."  "  Then  let  our  fteps  be  flow,"  replied  the 
fair-haired  Gaul ;  "  left  the  foe  fay,  with  a  fmile,  Be- 
hold the  iiar  i  ion  of night,  tbey  art  like  gh<<J1s,  terrible  in  dark* 
nefijiut  they  melt  aivay  before  the  beam  of  the  eafl.    Oflian,  take 

the  fhield  of  Gormar  who  fell  beneath  thy  fpear,  that 
the  aged  heroes  may  rejoice,  when  they  fhali  behold  the 
actions  of  their  ions." 

Such  were  cur  words  on  the  plain,  when  Sulmath  ff 
came  to  car-borne  Lathmon  :  Sulmath,  chief  of  Dutha, 
at  the  dark-rolling  ftream  of  Duvranna  ||[|.  "  Why 
doft  thou  not  rtifh,  fob  of  Nuiith,  with  a  thoufand  of 
thy  hemes  ?  Why  doft  thou  not  defcend  with  thy  hoft, 
before  the  warriors  fly  ?  their  blue  arms  are  beaming 
to  the  rifing  light,  and  their  fteps  are  before  us  on  the 
heath." 

"  Son  of  the  feeble  hand,"  faid  Lathmon,  "  fha!l  my 
hoft  defcend?  They  are  but  two,  ion  of  Dutha,  and 
fhall  a  thoufand  1'ft  their  ftee!  ?  Nuath  would  mourn, 
in  his  hall,  for  the  departure  of  his  fame.  His  eyes 
would  turn  fcom  Lathmon,  when  the  tread  of  his  feet 
approached.  Go  thou  to  the  heroes,  chief  of  Dutha, 
for  I  lxhold  the  ftately  fteps  of  Oflian.  His  fame  is 
worthy  of  my  fteel ;  let  him  fight  with  Lathmon." 

t  Car-borne  is  a  fi:lc  of  h    »   nr  bellowed,  hy  O.Tian,  inlifcriminsfelv  en  every 

n  h:> t.kcuui.-.i^or  litter  I.  .-.  a-,  ui  'titc. 

■ 


A    FOF.M.  75 

The  noble  Sulmath  came.  I  rejoiced  in  the  words 
of  the  king.  I  raifedthe  lhield  on  my  arm  ;  and  Gaul 
placed  in  my  hand  the  fword  of  Morni.  We  returned 
to  the  murmuring  ilream ;  Lathmon  came  in  his 
fh-ength.  His  dark  hoft  rolled,  like  the  clouds,  behind 
him  :  but  the  fon  of  Nuath  was  bright  in  his  fteel. 

"  Son  of  Fingal,"  faid  the  hero,  "  thy  fame  hai 
grown  on  our  fell.  How  many  lie  there  of  my  people 
by  thy  hand,  thou  king  of  men  !  Lift  now  thy  fpear 
again!!  Lathmon;  and  lay  the  fon  of  Nuath  low.  Lay 
him  low  among  his  people,  or  thou  thyfelf  muft  fall. 
It  fhall  never  be  told  in  my  halls  that  my  warriors  fell 
in  my  prefence  ;  that  they  fell  in  the  prefence  of  Lath- 
mon when  his  fword  refted  by  his  fide  :  the  blue  eyes 
of  Cutba  f  would  roll  in  tears,  and  her  fteps  be  lonely 
in  the  vales  of  Dunlathtnon." 

u  Neither  fhall  it  be  told,"  I  replied,  "  that  the  fon 
of  Fingal  fled.  Were  his  Heps  covered  with  darknefs, 
yet  would  not  Ollian  fly  ;  his  foul  would  meet  him  and 

fay,  Does  the  bard  oj  Selma  fear  the  foe  ?   No  :    he  does  not 

fear  the  foe.     His  joy  is  in  the  midft  of  battle." 

Lathmon  came  on  with  his  fpear  and  pierced  the  . 
ihield  of  Oman.  I  felt  the  cold  fteel  at  my  fide  ;  and 
drew  the  fword  of  Morni:  I  cut  the  fpear  in  twain; 
the  bright  point  fell  glittering  on  the  ground.  Th  fon 
of  Nuath  burnt  in  his  wrath,  and  lifted  highhis  found- 
ing fhield.  His  dark  eyes  rolled  above  it,  as  bending 
forward,  it  fhone  like  a  gate  of  brafs.  But  Oman  s 
fpear  pierced  the  brightneft  of  its  boiTes,  and  funk  .  a 
tree  that  role  behind.  The  fhield  hung  on  the  quiver- 
ing lance  !  but  Lathmon  ftill  advanced.  Gaul  fofefaw 
the  fall  of  the  chief,  and  ftretched  his  buckler  before 
my  fword;  when  it  defceaded,  in  a  itream  of  light, 
over  the  king  of  Dunlathmon. 

Lathmon  beheld  the  fon  of  Morni,  and  the  tear  ftart> 

.  his  eye.     He  threw  the  fword  of  his  fathers 'on 

I  .  ;'i,  and  fpoke  the  words  of  the  valiant.  "  Why 

d  fight  agaijrfl;  the  f^ft  of  mortal  men  \     ■ 
Your  foujs  are  beams  )  ;  ybui  lv.crus  the 

♦  CuU-.j  appears  to  have  hcen  Lathmott'a  i*':f«  or  ::>\r.,-'Jt. 


76  LATHMON:    A    POEM. 

fames  of  death.  Who  can  equal  the  renown  of  the 
heroes,  whofe  actions  are  fo  great  in  youth  ?  O  that  ye 
were  in  the  halls  of  Nuath,  in  the  green  dwelling  of 
Lathmori  !  then  would  my  father  fay,  that  his  fon  did 
not  yield  to  the  feeble.  But  who  comes,  a  mighty 
ftream,  along  the  echoing  heath  ?  the  little  hills  are 
troubled  before  him,  and  a  thoufand  fpirits  are  on  the 
beams  of  his  fteel ;  the  fpirits  f  of  thofe  who  are  to  fall 
by  the  arm  of  the  king  of  refounding  Morven.  Hap- 
py art  thcu,  O  Fingal,  thy  fons  fnall  fight  thy  battles  ; 
they  go  forth  before  thee :  and  they  return  with  the 
Reps  of  renown." 

Fingal  came,  in  his  mildnefs,  rejoicing  infecret  over 
the  actions  of  his  fon.  Morni's  face  brightened  with 
gladneis,  and  his  aged  eyes  looked  faintly  through  the 
tears  of  joy.  We  came  to  the  halls  of  Selma,  and  fat 
round  the  feaft  of  fhells.  The  maids  of  the  fong  came 
into  our  prefence,  and  the  mildly  blulhing  Everallin. 
Her  dark  hair  ipread  on  her  neck  of  fno\v,  her  eyes 
tolled  in  fecret  on  Offian  ;  flie  touched  the  harp  of  mu- 
fic,  and  we  blefled  the  daughter  of  Branno. 

Fingal  rofe  in  his  place,  and  fpoke  to  Dunlathmon's 
battling  king.  The  fword  of  Trenmor  trembled  by 
his  lide,  as  he  lifted  up  his  mighty  arm.  "  Son  of  Nu- 
ath/' he  faid,  "  why  doft  thou  fearch  for  fame  in  Mor- 
ven ?  We  are  not  of  the  race  of  the  feeble  ;  nor  do  our 
fwords  gleam  over  the  weak.  When  did  we  come  to 
Dunlathmon,  with  the  found  of  war  ?  Fingal  docs  not 
delight  in  battle,  though  his  arm  is  ftrong.  My  renown 
grows  on  the  fall  of  the  haughty.  1  he  lightning  of 
my  fteel  pours  on  the  proud  in  arms.  The  battle 
comes :  and  the  tombs  of  the  valiant  rife  ;  the  tombs 
of  my  people  rife,  O  my  fathers  1  and  I  at  lalt  mult  re- 
main alone.  But  I  will  remain  renowned,  and  the  de- 
parture of  my  foul  fhall  be  one  ftream  of  light.  Lath- 
men  !  retire  to  thy  plare.  Turn  thy  battles  to  other 
lands.  The  race  of  Morven  are  renowned,  and  their 
foes  are  the  fons  of  the  unhappy." 


O  I  T  H  O  N  A: 

A    POEM. 

THE    ARGUMENT. 

C»ul .  the  fon  of  Mo?ni,  attended  Lathmon  into  his  own  country,  after  his  beinf? 
detent ed  in  Morven,  a--  related  in  the  ;>re<.edint;  poem.  He  was  kindly  eatertain- 
ed  <••,  Nuath  the  fa- her  of  Lathmon,  and  fell  in  love  wilh  his  daughter  Oithona. 
The  lady  »«s  no  lelsena.noured  of  Gaul,  and  a  day  was  fixed  tor  their  marriage. 
In  the  nu an  time,  Kingal,  preparing  for  an  expedition  into  the  country  of  the 
Britons,  fLi,t  for  Gaul.  He  obeyed,  and  went ;  but  not  withou:  prouaiing  to  Oi- 
thona to  return,  -,i  he  furvived  the  war,  by  a  certain  day.  Lathmon  too  was  o- 
bliged  to  attend  his  father  Nuath  in  his  wars,  and  Oithona  was  left  alone  at  Den- 
lathmon,  the  feat  of  the  family.  Dunrornmath,  lord  of  Uthal.  fupuofed  to  be 
one  ot  the  Orkney-,  taking  advantage  Of  the  abfence  01  her  friends,  came  and 
carried  off,  by  force,  Oithona,  who  had  formerly  re  ;cted  bis  1  >ve,  into  Troma- 
thon,  a  defert  ifland,  where  he  concealed  her  in  a  cave 

Caul  returned  on  the  day  appointed  ;  heard  of  the  rape,  and  failed  to  Tromathon, 
.  j  brimfelf  on  Dunromiuath.  When  he  landed,  he  found  O'thona  dif- 
confolate,  and  reiolved  not  to  furvivc  the  loCs  of  her  honour.  She  told  him  the 
ltory  of  her  misfortunes,  and  fhe  fcarce  ended,  when  Dunrommatti  with  his  fol- 
lowers, appeared  at  the  further  end  of  the  ifland.  Gaul  prepared  to  attack  him, 
recommending  to  Oithona  to  retire,  till  the  battle  was  over.  She  reemingly  o- 
beyed;  but  fliefccreUy  armed  herfelf,  ruined  Into  the  thickelt  of  the  battle,  and 
was  mortally  wounded.  Gaul  purfu'.ng  the  Hying  enemy,  found  her  juS  expiring 
on  the  field  ;  he  mourned  over  he  ,  railed  her  tomb,  and  returned  to  Mur\en. 
■  ftory  handed  down  by  tradition  ;  nor  is  it  given  with  any  material 
n  to  Dunlathmon,  after  the 


TT\arkness  dwells  around  Dunlathmon,  though  the 
"*-'  moon  fhews  half  her  face  on  the  hill.  The  daugh- 
ter of  night  turns  her  eyes  away  ;  for  {he  beholds  the 
grief  that  is  coming.  The  fon  of  Morni  is  on  the  plain ; 
but  there  is  no  found  in  the  hall.  No  long-ftrearning 
beam  of  light  comes  trembling  through  the  gloom. 
The  voice  of  Oithona  f  is  not  heard  amidft  the  noife 
of  the  ftreams  of  Duvranna.  "Whither  art  thou  gone  in 
thy  beauty,  dark,  haired  daughter  of  Nuath  ?  Lathmon 
is  in  the  field  of  the  valiant,  but  thou  didft  promife  to 
remain  in  the  hall  ;  thou  didft  promife  to  remain  in  the 
hail  till  the  fon  of  Morni  returned.  Till  he  returned 
from  Strumon,  to  the  maid  of  his  love  The  tear  was 
on  thy  cheek  at  his  departure :  the  figh  role  in  fecrefc 
in  thy  breaft.     But  thou  doft  not  come  to  meet  him, 

*  Oi-th«na,  '  the  virgin  of  the  wave.' 


1%  OITHONA: 

with  fcngs,  with  the  lightly-trembling  found  of  the 
harp." 

Such  were  the  words  of  Gaul,  when  he  came  to 
Dunjath'mon's  towers.  The  gates  were  open  and  dark. 
The  winds  were  bluftering  in  the  hall.  The  trees 
ftrewed  the  threshold  with  leaves  ;  and  the  murmur  of 
night  was  abroad.  Sad  and  filent,  at  a  rock,  the  fon  of 
Mcrni  fat:  his  foul  trembled  for  the  maid;  but  he 
knew  not  whither  to  turn  his  courfe.  The  fon  f  of 
Leth  ftood  at  a  diftance,  and  heard  the  winds  in  his 
bufhy  hair.  But  he  did  not  raife  his  voice,  for  he  law 
the  forrow  of  Gaul. 

Sleep  defcended  on  the  heroes.  The  vifions  of 
night  arofe.  Oithona  ftood  in  a  dream,  before  the 
eyes  of  Morni's  fon.  Ker  dark  hair  was  loofe  and  dif- 
ordered  :  her  lovely  eye  roiled  in  tears.  Blood  fLained 
her  fnowy  arm.  The  robe  half  hid  the  wound  of  her 
breaft.  She  flood  over  the  chief,  and  her  voice  was 
heard. 

"  Sleeps  the  fon  of  Morni,  he  that  was  lovely  in  the 
eyes  of  Oithona  ?  Sleeps  Gaul  at  the  diftant  rock,  and 
the  daughter  of  Nuath  low  ?  The  fea  rolls  round  the 
dark  ifle  of  Tromaihon  ;  I  fit  in  my  tears  in  the  cave. 
Nor  do  I  fit  alone,  O  Gaul,  the  dark  chief  of  Cuthal  is 
there.  He  is  there  in  the  rage  of  his  love.  And  what 
can  Oithona  do  ?" 

A  rougher  blaft  rufhed  through  the  oak.  The  dream 
of  night  departed.  Gaul  took  his  afpen  fpear ;  he 
flood  in  the  rage  of  wrath.  Often  did  his  eyes  turn  to 
the  eaft,  and  accufe  the  lagging  light.  At  length  the 
morning  came  forth.  The  hero  lifted  up  the  fail.  The 
winds  came  ruftling  from  the  hill ;  and  he  bounded  on 
the  waves  of  the  deep.  On  the  third  day  arofe  Tro- 
mathon ||,  like  a  blue  fhield  in  the  midft  of  the  fea. 
The  white  wave  roared  againft  its  rocks  ;  fad  Oithona 
fat  on   the  coaft.     She  looked  on  the  rolling  waters, 


t  Morlo,  the  fnn  of  Leth,  is  one  of  Fingal's  moft  famous  heroes.    He  and  three 
Other  men  attended  Gaul  on  hit.  expedition  lo 'I  runi;ilh.on. 
||  Trom-thon,  4  heavy  or  deep  founding  wave.' 


A    POEM.  79 

and  her  tears  defcend.  But  when  flie  faw  Gaul  in  his 
j  fiarted  and  turned  her  eyes  away.  Her  love- 
ly check  is  bent  and  red  ;  her  white  arm  trembles  by 
her  fide.  Thrice  fhe  Arove  to  fly  from  his  pretence  ; 
but  hex  fteps  failed  her  as  foe  went. 

"  Daughter  of  Nuath,"  laid  the  hero,  "  why  dofl 
thou  fly  from  Gaul  ?  Do  my  eyes  fend  forth  the  flame 
of  death  ?  or  darkens  hatred  in  my  foul  ?  Thou  art  to 
me  the  beam  oi  the  eaft,  nfing  in  a  land  unknown.  But 
thou  covereft  thy  face  with  fadnefs,  daughter  of  high. 
J  hmon!    Is  the  foe  of  Oithona  near  ?    My  foul 

burns  to  meet  him  in  battle.  The  fword  trembles  on 
the  fide  of  Gaul,  and  longs  to  glitter  in  his  hand.  Speak, 
daughter  of  Nuath,  dofl.  thou  not  behold  my  teari  :" 

"  Car  heme  chief  of  Strumon,"  replied  the  fighing 
maid,  "  why  c<  eft  thou  over  the  dark-blue  wave,  to 
Nuath'j  r  :  Why  did  I  not  pafs  away 

in  fecret,  like  tl  -  flower  of  the  rock,  that  lifts  its  fair 
head  unfeen,  and  firews  its  withered  leaves  on  the  blah? 
Why  didfl  thou  come,  O  Gaul,  to  hear  my  departing 
flgh  ?  I  pafs  au  ay  in  my  youth  ;  and  my  name  ftialj 
not  be  heard.  Or  it  will  be  heard  with  forrow,  and 
the  tears  of  Nuath  will  fall.  Thou  wilt  be  fad,  fon  of 
Morni,  for  the  fallen  fame  of  Oithona.  But  foe  feall 
fleep  in  the  narrow  tomb,  fai  from  the  voice  of  the 
mourner.  Why  didfl:  thou  come,  chief  of  Strumcn,  to 
the  fea-beat  rocks  of  Tromathon  ?" 

"  I  came  to  meet  thy  foes,  daughter  of  car  borne 
Nuath  !  the  death  ofCuthal's  chief  darkens  berore  me  5 
or  Morni:s  fon  (hall  fall.  Oil  bona  !  when  Gaul  is 
low,  raife  my  tomb  on  that  oozy  rock ;  and  when  the 
dark-bounding  ihip  fnal!  pafs,  call  the  'ous  of  the  lea  ; 
call  them  and  give  this  nyord,  that  they  may  carry  it 
to  Morni's  hall;  that  the  gray  haired  hero  may  ceaflj 
to  lock  towards  the  defert  for  'the  return  of  his  j.  ... 

"  And  fhall  the  daughter  of  Nuath  live  V  /he  replied 

burfling  figh,    ';  Shall  I  live  in  Tromathon,  and 

-  :    My  heart  is  not  of  that  rock ; 

mcr  my  foul  cartk'fs  as  that  i'ea,  -which  lifts  its  blue 


8o  OITHONA: 

waves  to  ever)''  wind,  and  rolls  beneath  the  ftorm.  The 
blaft  which  fhall  lay  thee  low,  fhall  fpread  the  branches 
of  Oithona  on  earth.  We  fhall  wither  together,  lbn  of 
car- borne  Morni  !  The  narrow  houfe  is  pleafantto  me, 
and  the  gray-ftone  of  the  dead:  for  never  more  will  I 
leave  thy  rocks,  fea-furrounded  Tromathon  !  Night  f 
came  on  with  her  clouds,  after  the  departure  of  Lath- 
ir.on,  when  he  went  to  the  wars  of  his  fathers,  to  the 
mofs-covered  rock  of  Duthormoth  ;  night  came  on, 
and  I  fat  in  the  hall,  at  the  .beam  of  the  oak.  The 
wind  was  abroad  in  the  trees.  I  heard  the  found  of 
arms.  Joy  role  in  my  face  ;  for  I  thought  of  thy  re- 
turn. It  was  the  chief  of  Cuthal,  the  red-haired  ftrength 
of  Dunrommath.  His  eyes  rolled  in  fire  :  the  blood  of 
my  people  was  on  his  fword.  They  who  defended 
Oithona  fell  by  the  gloomy  chief.  What  could  I  do  ? 
My  arm  was  weak  ;  it  could  not  lift  the  fpear.  He 
tock  me  m  my  grief,  amidft  my  te*ars  he  ralfed  the  fail. 
He  feared  the  returning  ftrengih  of  Lathmon,  the  bro- 
ther of  unhappy  Oithona.  But  behold,  he  comes  with 
his  people  !  the  dark  wave  is  divided  before  him  ! 
Whither  wilt  thou  turn  thy  fteps,  fon  of  Morni  ?  Ma- 
ny are  the  warriors  of  Dunrommath  !" 

"  My  fteps  never  turned  from  battle,,"  replied  the 
hero  as  he  ufdheathed  lis  fword  ;  "  and  fhall  I  begin  to 
fear,  Oithona,  when  thy  foes  are  near  ?  Go  to  thy  cave, 
daughter  of  Nuath,  till  cur  battle  ceafe.  Son  of  Leth, 
bring  the  bows  of  our  fathers  ;  and  die  founding  quiver 
of  Morni.  Let  our  three  warriors  bend  the  yew. 
Ouriehes  will  lift  the  fpear.  They  are  an  hoft  on  the 
rock  ;  but  our  fouls  are  ftrong." 

The  daughter  of  Nuath  went  to  the  cave  :  a  troubled 
joy  role  on  Iter  ^:ind,  like  the  red  path  of  the  lightning 
on  a  ftormy  cloud.  Her  foul  was  reiblved,  and  the  tear 
was  dried  from  her  wildly-looking  eye.  Dunr-  inrnath 
flow  ly  approached  ;  for  lie  faw  the  ion  of  Morni.  Con- 
tempt contracted  his  face,  a  fmile  is  on  his  dark -brown 

I  Oitbflaa  relates  tow  ihe  was  tarried  sway  h\  DuwM&satM 


A  poem.  8r 

cheek  ;    his  red  eye  rolled,  half-concealed,  beneath  his 
fhaggy  brows. 

"  Whence  are  the  Tons  of  die  fea  ?"  begun  the  gloomy 
chief.  "  Have  the  winds  driven  you  to  the  rocis  of 
Trormthon  ?  Or  come  you  in  fearch  of  the  while-hand- 
ed daughter  of  Nuath  ?  The  ions  of  the  unhappy,  ye 
feeble  men,  come  to  the  hand  of  Dunrommath.  Ills 
eye  fpares  not  the  weak,  and  he  delights  in  the  blood 
of  ftrangers.  Oithona  is  a  beam  of  light,  and  the  chief 
of  Cuthal  enjoys  it  in  feeret  :  weuldft  thou  come  on  its 
lovelintfs,  like  a  cloud,  fon  of  the  feeble  hand  ?  Thou 
mayeft  come,  but  {halt  thou  return  to  the  halls  of  thy 
fathers  V 

"  Don.  thou  not  know  me,"  faid  Gaul,  "  red-haired 
chief  of  Cuthal  ?  Thy  feet  were  fwift  on  the  heath,  in 
the  battle  of  car-borne  Lathmon:  when  the  fword  of 
Morni's  fon  purfued  his  hoft  in  Moron's  woody  land. 
Dunrommath  !  thy  words  are  mighty,  for  thy  warriors 
gather  behind  thee.  But  do  I  fear  them,  fon  of  pride  ? 
I  am  not  of  the  race  of  the  feeble." 

Gaul  advanced  in  his  arms ;  Dunrommath  fhrunk 
behind  his  people.     But  the  fpear  of  Gaul  pierced  the 

floomy  chief,  and  his  fword  lopped  off  his  head,  as  it 
ended  in  death.  The  fon  of  Momi  fhook  it  thrice  by 
the-  lock  ;  the  warriors  of  Dunrommath  fled.  The  ar- 
rows of  Morven  purfued  them  :  ten  fell  on  the  moily 
rocks.  The  reft  lift  the  founding  fail,  and  bound  on 
the  echoing  deep.  Gaul  advanced  towarda  the  cave  of 
Oithona.  He  beheld  a  youth  leaning  againft  a  rock. 
An  arrow  had  pierced  his  fide  :  and  his  eye  rolled  faint- 
ly beneath  his  helmet.  The  foul  of  Morni's  fon  is  fad, 
he  came  and  fpoke  the  words  of  peace. 

"  Can  the  hand  of  Gaul  heal  thee,  youth  of  the 
mournful  brow  ?  I  have  fearched  for  the  herbs  of  the 
mountains  ;  I  have  gathered  them  on  the  feeret  tanks 
of  their  dreams.  My  hand  has  doled  the  w« 
the  valiant,  and  their  eyes  have  blefled  the  ion  of  Mor- 
ni.  Where  dwelt  thy  Fathers,  warrior  ?  Were  they  of 
the  fons  of  the  mighty  ?  Sadneft  Ihail  come,  like  . 
Vol.  II.  H 


?a  OTTHONA :    A  POEM. 

on    thy  native   Breams ;    for  thou  art  fallen  in   thy 
youth/' 

"  My  fathers,"  replied  the  ftranger,  (i  were  of  the 
r?c?  of  the  mighty  ;  but  they  ftall  not  be  fad  ;  for  my 
fame  is  departed  like  morning  mill.  High  walls  rife 
on  the  banks  of  Duvranna  ;  and  fee  their  mofly  towers 
in  the  ftfeam  ;  a  rock  afcends  behind  them  with  its 
behding  firs.  Thou  mayeil  behold  it  far  diftant.  There 
my  brother  dwells.  He  is  renowned  in  battle:  give 
him  this  glittering  helmet." 

The  helmet  ftil  from  the  hand  of  Can!  ;  for  it  was 
the  wounded  Oithoha,  She  had  armed  herfelf  in  the 
cave,  and  came  in  li  arch  of  death,  Her  heavy  eyes  are 
half  clef  d  ;  the  blood  pours  from  her  fide.  "  Son  of 
Morni,"  ftie  faid,  "  prepare  the  narrow  tomb.  Sleep 
comes,  like  a  cloud,  on  my  foul.  The  eyes  of  Oithona 
are  dim.  O  had  I  dwelt  at  Duvranna,  in  the  bright  beam 
of  my  fame  !  the  n  had  my  years  come  on  with  joy ;  and 
the  virgins  would  blefs  m\  fleps.  But  1  fall  in  youth, 
fon  of  Morni,  and  my  father  [hall  blufh  in  his  hall." 

She  fell  pale  en  the  rock  of  Tromithon.  The  mourn-  ' 
ful  hero  railed  her  tomb.  He  came  to  Morven  ;  but 
we  faw  the  darkuefs  of  his  foul.  Offian  took  the  harp 
in  the  praife  of  Oithona;  The  brightnefs  of  the  face  of 
Gaul  returned.  But  his  figh  rofe,  at  times,  in  the  midft 
of  "his  friends,  like  biafts  that  fliake  their  unfrequent 
wings,  after  the  ftorniy  winds  are  laid. 


&      r-} 

•  ^ 

C£  -           •■■ 

^-'•■■' 

',~ 

HL 

C     R     O     M     A: 

A    P  O  E  M. 


THE    ARGUMENT. 


•    -ay    .iic-Al   of  annexing  the 
dii-'iinion-    :  c    ■      ■-  •...-  I      M      icco  di     ;ly  inarched  into  i tie  country 

.     .,.  «-,. Kh  lie  hold  or  Arth  or  Artho,  who  v.as  aithe  tiine, 
I  Ireland. 

.■nr.ti'fhiiJK  Jiid^inlr*,   unfit  for  i  :ti-n,   font  for  aid 
i  nOiTiai  Ftrf  Crothan 

.     te  fon  afCiothar,  attacking  Rothmar, 
\\as!b  n  i,  .  r'oi  05  totally  defeated      OlRan  renewed  the  war; 

c.inie  in  b'iitle,  :<uli-.!  rv.uv.  i,ar,an_;  /u;;;J  his  army.    Cromab-'ing  thus  deliver- 
ed Of  its  enemies,  Offiail  lotuiiicd  to  Scotland. 

"  Tt  was  the  vpice  of  my  love  !  few  are  his  vifits  to 
■*■  the  dreams  of  Malvina!  Open  your  airy  halls,  ye 
fathers  of  mighty  Tofcar.  Unfold  the  gates  of  your 
clouds ;  the  fteps  oi  Malvina's  departure  are  near.  I 
have  heard  a  voice  in  my  dream.  I  feel  the  fluttering 
of  my  foul.  Why  didft  thou  come,  O  blaft,  from  the 
dark-rolling  of  the  lake  ?  Thy  ruflling  wing  was  in  the 
tiic  trees,  the  dream  of  Malvina  departed.  Bat  {he  be- 
held her  love,  when  his  robe  of  mift  flew  on  the  wind; 
the  Learn  of  the  fun  was  on  his  fkhts,  they  glittered 
like  the  gold  of  the  firanger.  It  was  the  voice  of  my 
love  !   few  are  his  vifits  to  my  dreams  ! 

"  But  thou  dwelled  in  the  foul  of  .Malvina,  fon  of 
mighty  Oman.  My  fighs  arife  with  the  beam  of  the 
fill;  my  tears  uefcend  with  the  drops  of  night.  I  was 
a  lovely  tree,  in  thy  prefence,  Ofcar,  with  all  my  branch- 
es round  me;  but  thy  death  came  like  a  blaft  from  the 
defert,  and  laid  my  green  head  low ;  the  fpring  returned 
with  its  (howers,  but  no  leaf  of  mine  arofe.  The  vir- 
gins law  me  filent  in  the  hail,  and  they  touched  the 
harp  of  joy.  The  tear  was  on  the  check  of  Malvina: 
H  % 


g4  CROMA: 

the  virgins  beheld  me  in  my  grief.  Why  art  thou  fad, 
theyfaid;  thou  firft  of  the  maids  of  Lutha?  Was  he 
lovely  as  the  beam  of  the  moining,  and  ftately  in  thy 
fight?" 

"Pleafant  is  thy  fong  in  Ofllan's  ear,  daughter  of  ftrea- 
my  Lutha  !  Thou  haft  heard  the  mufic  of  departed 
bards  in  the  dream  of  thy  reft,  when  deep  fell  on  thine 
eyes,  at  the  murmur  of  Moruth  f.  When  thou  didft 
return  from  the  chafe,  in  the  day  of  the  fun,  thou  haft 
heard  the  mufic  of  the  bards,  and  thy  fong  is  lovely. 
It  is  lovely,  O  Maivina,  but  it  melts  the  foul.  There 
is  a  joy  in  grief  when  peace  dwells  in  the  breaft  of  the 
fad.  But  furrow  waftes  the  mournful,  O  daughter  of 
,  Tofcar,  and  their  days  are  few.  They  fall  away,  like 
the  flower  on  which  the  fun  looks  in  his  ftrength  after 
the  mildew  lias  palled  over  it,  and  its  head  is  heavy  with 
the  drops  of  night.  Attend  to  the  tale  of  Offian,  O 
maid  ;  he  remembers  the  days  of  his  youth. 

The  king  commanded;  I  raifed  my  fails,  and  rulhed 
into  the  bay  of  Croma :  into  Croma's  founding  bay  in 
lovely  Innis  fail  [|.  High  on  the  coaft  arofe  the  towers 
of  Crcihar,  king  of  fpears  ;  Crothar,  renowned  in  the 
battles  of  his  youth  ;  but  age  dwelt  then  around  the 
chief.  Rothmar  railed  the  fword  agaiuft  the  hero ; 
and  the  wrath  of  Fingal  burned.  He  frnt  Offian  to 
meet  Rothmar  in  battle,  for  the  chief  of  Croma  was 
the  companion  of  his  youth.  I  fent  the  bard  before  me 
with  fongs ;  I  came  into  the  hall  of  Crothar.  There 
fat  the  hero  amiclft  the  arms  of  his  fathers,  but  his  eyes 
had  failed.  His  gray  locks  waved  around  a  ItaiF,  on 
which  the  warrior  leaned.  He  hummed  the  fong  of 
other  times,  when  the  found  of  our  arms  reached  his 
ears,  Crothar  role,  firetched  his  aged  hand,  and  blef- 
i'ed  the  fon  of  Fingal. 

"  Oilian,"  faid  the  hero,  "  the  ftrength  of  Crothar's 
arm  has  failed.  O  could  I  lift  the  fword,  ?.s  on  the  day 
that  Fingal  fought  at  Strutha!    He  was  the.  firft  of 


A    POFM.  $? 

mortal  men  ;  but  Crothar  had  alfo  his  fame.  The 
king  of  Morven  praii'ed  me,  and  he  placed  en  my  arm 
the  holTy  fhield  ofCalthar,  whom  the  hero  had  flain  in 
Mar.  Doft  thou  not  behold  it  on  the  wall,  for  Cro- 
thar's  eyes  have  failed  ?  Is  thy  ftrength,  like  thy  fa- 
ther's Offian  ?  let  the  aged  feel  thine  arm." 

I  gave  my  arm  to  the  king  ;  he  feels  it  with  his  aged 
hands.  The  iigh  rofe  in  his  breaft,  and  his  tears  de- 
fcended.  "  Thou  art  ftrong,  my  fon,"  he  laid,  "  but 
not  like  the  king  of  Morven.  But  who  is  like  that  he- 
ro among  the  mighty  in  war  ?  Let  the  feaft  of  my  halls 
he  fpread  ;  and  let  my  bards  raife  the  fong.  Great  is 
he  that  is  within  ray  wails,  fons  of  echoing  Croma  !" 
The  feaft  is  ipread.  The  harp  is  heard ;  and  joy  is  in 
the  hall.  But  it  was  joy  covering  a  figh,  that  darkly 
dwelt  in  even'  breaft.  It  was  i'ke  the  faint  beam  of 
the  moon,  fpread  en  a  cloud  in  heaven.  At  length  the 
muiic  ceafed,  and  the  aged  king  of  Croma  ipeke  ;  he 
(poke  without  a  tear,  but  the  iigh  fwelled  in  the  midft 
of  his  voice. 

"  Son  of  Fingal !  clofl  thou  not  behold  the  darknef3 
of  Crothar'shail  of  fheils  ?  My  foul  was  not  dark  at  the 
feaft]  when  my  people  lived.  I  rejoiced  in  the  pre- 
fence  offtrangers,  when  my  fon  ihone  in  the  halL 
But,  Officii,  he  is  a  beam  that  is  departed,  and  left  no 
ftreak  of  light  behind.  He  is  fallen,  fon  oii  Fingal,  ii 
the  battles  of  his  father.  Rothmar,  the  chief  of  grafly 
Tromlo,  heard  that  my  eyes  had  failed;  he  heard  that 
my  arms  were  fixed  in  the  hall,  and  the  pride  of  his  leul 
arofe.  He  came  towards  Croma;  my  people  fell  before 
him.  I  took  my  arms  in  the  hall;  but  what  could  fight- 
lels  Crothar  do  ?  My  Heps  were  unequal ;  my  gi  i 
great.  I  wiftted  for  the  days  that  were  paft.  Days ! 
wherein  i  fought ;  and  conquered  in  the  held  ofh 
My  fon  returned  from  tin  :hafe;  the  fair-haired  Fo-^ 
var-gormoV.     Ht  had  1    tlifj  ?d  in  battle,  for 

his  arm  was  young,     B  it  the  foul  of  the  youth  was 

- 


S6  CROMA: 

great;  the  fire  of  valour  burnt  in  his  eyes.  He  faw  the 
difordered  fteps  of  his  father,  and  his  iigh  arofe.  "  King 
of  Croma,"  he  faid,  "  is  it  becaufe  thou  haft  no  fon  ? 
is  it  for  the  weaknefs  of  Fovar-gormo's  arm  that  thy 
fighs  arife  ?  I  begin,  my  father,  to  feel  the  ftrength  of 
my  arm  ;  I  have  drawn  the  fword  of  my  youth  ;  and  I 
have  bent  the  bow.  Let  me  meet  this  Rothmar,  with 
the  youths  of  Croma  :  let  me  meet  him,  O  my  father; 
for  I  feel  my  burning  foul/' 

"  And  thou  (hah  meet  him,"  I  faid,  "  fon  of  the 
fightlels  Crothar!  But  let  others  advance  before  thee, 
that  I  may  hear  the  tread  of  thy  feet  at  thy  return  ;  for 
my  eyes  behold  thee  not,  fair-haired  hovar  gormo ! 
He  went,  he  met  the  foe  ;  he  fell.  The  foe  advances 
towards  Croma.  He  who  flew  my  fon  is  near,  with  all 
his  pointed  {"pears." 

It  is  not  time  to  fill  the  fhel!,  I  replied,  and  took 
my  fpear.  My  people  faw  the  fire  of  my  eyes,  and 
they  rcfe  around.  All  night  we  ftrode  along  the  heath. 
Grav  morning  rofe  in  the  eaft.  A  ^reen  narrow  vale 
appeared  before  us  ;  nor  did  it  want  its  blue  ftream. 
The  dark  heft  of  Rothmar  are  on  its  banks,  with  all 
their  glitterinp;  arms.  We  fought  along  the  vale;  they 
fled  ;  Rothmar  funk  beneath  my  fword.  Day  had  not 
defcended  in  the  weft  when  I  brought  his  arms  to  Cro- 
thar. The  aged  hero  felt  them  with  his  hands ;  and 
joy  brightened  in  his  foul; 

The  people  gather  to  the  hall;  the  found  of  the  fuel's 
is  heard.  Ten  harps  art  firung ;  five  bards  advance,, 
and  fing  by  turns  j,  the  prail'e  of  Oman ;  they  poured 


NIGHT  it  dull 


A  POEM.  87 

forth  their  burning  fouls,  and  the  harp  anfwered  to 
their  voice.  The  joy  of  Grama  was  great :  for  peace 
returned  to  the  land.     The  night  came  en  with  filence, 

B  valley  murmurs;   but  its  murmur  is 

e  01  the  (lead  I  lie  long-howling  ow  1  is 

.  a  Rl;"-.' !   it  fade- — it  flies.     Some  tu. 

ih  s  a  ay  :   the  meteor  marks  the  path. 

•  1  dog  is  howling  from  the  hut  of  ttic  hill,     rhe  Hag  lies  00  the  moor!. 

tain  miifs  :  the  hind  is  at  his  ride     she  hear;  the  wind  in  lii»  branchy  horns,    She 

lift  of  the  rock  ;   the  hea:h-c  ink's  head  i-  beneath  his  wing, 
N  ■".'..•..  ;    :•  :    '.t  the  owl  and, the.  howling  fox.    She  oh  aTeaflefs 

free:    lie  i„  .  cio-ui  ....  the i, ill. 

nark,  panting,  (rcnililing,  fad,  the  iravelle-  hai  loll  hi-  way.  Through  fhrubs, 
through  thorn.-,  he  ?•*•,,  along  1'he  gurgl.ng  rill.  He  fe-.rs  the  roc!:  an-'  •  ■  ,  ■■„. 
i  .  gho't  u!   night.     The  old  tree  groans  to  th.  I-Utt  ;   the  falli,  g  branch 

r  ,  he  Wind  drive:    the  wiihenVi   bur-.  c'e;:i<:  t. -.ether,   aloi.g  ' 

It  i-the  light  t  t.s.i  of  a  ghoft !    He  trembles  a     idn  'he  night. 

Datk,d'i!k>-,  howling  i-,  niyht !  cloud\ ,  w:nd>,ai.d  full  ofgiccU!  The  dead  are 
abroad  !   my  friends,  receive  »;ie  from  the  night. 

SECOND   BARD. 

THE  wind  hup.  The  {power  defcends.  rhe  fpirit  of  the  mour.ram  fhrieks. 
Woods  fall  from  high.  U'inri, w-  flap  I  he  giowimt  liver  ro-u.-.  The  tra-eller 
attempts  the  ford  Hark  that  Ihnek. !  he  d.e- :-..  The  ii-i  m  drives  the  horfe  from 
the  hill,  the  goat,  the  lowing  cow.  They  tremble  ,i»  drives  cha  fhowerjjbefide  tire 
m  >'.i'.Jering  bank. 

The  hunter  ltarts  from  deep,  in  his  lonely  hut  ;  he  wakes  the  fire  decayed.  His 
wet  dog-  fmoke  around  him.  he  Gils  the  chinks  irtti  heath.  Luud  roar  two 
m'nni'.ain-il rer.:i!s  which  meet  befirie  hi-  ho  ith. 

Sad,  on  the  tide  of  a  hill,  the  wandering  fheiherd  fits.  The  tree  refounds  above 
him.      rhe  dream  roars  down  the  rock.     He  waits  tor  the  riling  moon  to  guide 

Gbofts  ride  en  the  ftorm  to-night.  Sweet  is  their  voice  between  the  fqualls  of 
wind.     Their  foi.gs;.:e  of  uthe: 

Therein  is  pa't.  The  dry  wind  blows.  Streamer  ia>-,  and  wind- ivs  lap.  Cold 
drops  fail  from  the  roof.  1  fee  tne  Harry  Sky.  Hut  the  Ihowei-  gathers  again, 
'I  he  wed  L  gloomy  and  dark.  Night  i- Uormy  and  dilVnal,  rct.'hcinc,  uiy  irunds, 
from  night. 

T11IR1  BARD. 
THE  wind  Rill  founds  between  tie  hills;   and  whiffle-  *h"-t:rr-h  t^a  grifs  of  the 
rhe    firs  fall  from  their  place      The  turf',     .  ;  .     ,. 

n  er  the  iky,  and  fliew  the  burning  liars.     ",'     ,     •-.,      :en  of  death  I 

■  ■•■••■"  "'.red  fern 
1  loak.    Who  is  T.;:  ,  -  .  tnctree, 


■  'ht,  on  the  lake.    Is  this  41s  broken  boat  on  the  more  ?   Are  th-fe  his 

I  The  ri-iky  fr.ow  d.f.  -rd=.  The  too-,  of  the  hills 
are  v  hite.  '1  he  Uormy  wind-,  ahate.  \  urious  is  itic  night  did  col  i  ;  receive  l.ie, 
m-   irlends,  from  night. 

"V  .:  :  ' 
XIC.HT  is  calm  p.r.d  rai:   V    .-.      •■     .        ■: ..'  •-  n'rt*.    The  winds,  wi:h  'he 
ip  on  the  umuntaio. 
1'ei   lake  ;  bright  il.e 
'    I 

I   ■-  ■■•;  'tcf  '1  hi-id 
I 

.  x  ,-  toeiiead?  That  form 


88  CROMA: 

and  the  morning  returned  with  joy.  No  foe  came  in 
darknefs,  with  his  glittering  fpear.  The  joy  of  Croma 
was  great ;  for  the  gloomy  Rothmar  was  fallen. 

I  raifed  my  voice  for  Fovar-gormo,  wlien  they  laid 
the  chief  in  earth.  The  aged  Crothar  was  there,  but 
his  figh  was  not  heard.  He  fearched  for  the  wound  of 
his  fon,  and  found  it  in  his  breaft.  Joy  role  in  the  face 
of  the  aged.     He  came  and  fpoke  to  Offian. 

"  King  of  fpears  !"  he  faid,  "  my  fon  has  net  fallen 
without  his  fame.  The  young  warrior  did  not  fiy  ; 
but  met  death  as  he  went  forward  in  his  ih'ength.  Hap- 
py are  they*  who  die  in -youth,  when  their  renown  is 
heard!  The  feeble  will  not  behold  them  in  the  hall; 
or  fmile  at  their  trembling  hands.  Their  memory  fliaU 
be  honoured  in  the  fong  ;  the  young  tear  of  the  virgin 


the  moon.    Receive  me  not5  tay  friend,  for  lovely  is.  the  nifc.ht. 

FIFTH  BARD. 
NTOI1T  iso'.ri,  V,t  dreary.      1  i.t  moon  i,  ir.  a  cloyrt  in  the  weft.     Slow  mo 
Hong  the  (haded  hill.     Th<  ...    The  torn 

,.  .,  heard  from  the  bootf-     M<  re  than  half 

■.-  i  lie  fettled   1; 
1  he  i.   ,.u,   ll.i..'..  :• ...         ..,.--.  .     .;-.     he  ;:k. 

the  hill  acd  whil iftrei  cloud.    He  fees  the  fta 

plouch  r  Ilk  noun.     M    ihoithe;    -lit:    •■    ;>'•.     he  ;.'<:.  I  y  the  mofTy  rock 

Vhi'm  nor.'       .  ',."  ,'-"nill  on  that  lofty  rock.     Ira; 

I'i    )■..  •    .,-.  ir   aii.     N. .,:;;  i-  dreary,  fucnt, ; 


Lei 


A    POEM.  89 

falls.  But  the  aged  wither  away,  by  degrees,  and  the 
fame  of  their  youth  begins  to  be  forgot.  They  fall  in 
fecret ;  the  figh  of  their  ion  is  not  heard.  Joy  is  a- 
round  their  tomb ;  and  the  ilone  of  their  fame  is  pla- 
ced without  a  tear.  Happy  are  they  who  die  in  youth* 
when  their  renown  is  around  them  1" 


1 


^:fe^£fe 


BERRATKOX: 

A    P  O  E  M. 

THE  ARGUMENT. 


clofesu.w,  ii-.j  i.itiOycj  <it  tlit  poet's  death. 

T>  end  tliy  blue  courfe,  O  itream,  round  the  narrow 
■*-*  plain  of  Luthaf.  Let  the  green  woods  hang  over 
it  from  their  mountains  ;  and  the  fun  look  on  it  at  noon. 
The  thiiiie  is  there  on  its  reck,  and  (hakes  its  beard  to 
tli.  wine'.  The  Bower  hangs  its  heavy  head,  waving, 
at  times,  to  the  gale.  "  Why  doft  thou  awake  me,  O 
gale  ?"  it  feems  to  fay;  "  I  am  covered  with  the  drops 
of  heaven.  The  time  of  my  fading  is  near,  and  the 
blaft  that  (hail  fcattermy  leaves.  To-morrow  mall  the 
traveller  come,  he  that  faw  rne  in  my  beauty  (hall 
come :  his  eyes  will  fearch  the  held,  but  they  will  not 
find  me  !  So  fhall  they  fearch  in  vain  for  the  voice  of 
Cona,  after  it  has  failed  in  the  field.  The  hunter  fhall 
come  forth  in  the  morning,  and  the  voice  of  my  harp 
fhall  not  be  heard.  "  Where  is  the  fon  of  car-borne 
Fingal  ?"  The  tear  will  be  on  his  cheek.  Then  come 
thou,  O  Malvina  ||,  with  all  thy  mufic,  come  ;  lay  Of- 

fLutha,  «fwift  ft  ream.' 

It  Mal-mhina,  '  Co  ft  or  lovely  brow.'    Mhia  the  Gallic  language  has  the  fame 
found  with  V  in  Ejigiiih. 


A   POF.IVf.  91 

fian  in  the  plain  of  Lutha :  let  his  tomb  rife  in  the 
l.)\r!-.    field. 

.  !   when  art  thou  with  thy  fangs:  with  the 
foft  found  of  n  f  of  Alpin  art  thou  near? 

where  is  the  daughter  of  Tolcar  ?  "I  palled,  O  ion  of 
!  I,  by  Tarlutha's  moily  walls.  The  fmoke  of  the 
hall  was  ceaied  :  (Hence  was  among  the  trees  of  the  hill. 
The  voice  of  the  chafe  was  over.  I  faw  the  daughters 
of  the  bow.  J  aflced  about  Malvina,  but  they  anfwered 
not.  They  turned  their  faces  away:  thin  clarknefs  co- 
vered  their  beauty.  They  were  like  liars  on  a  rainy 
hill,  by  night,  each  looking  faintly  through  her  mill. 
PIcafant  ||  be  thy  reft,  O  lovely  beam  !  1000  haft  thou 
,  fet  ou  our  hills !  The  fteps  of  thy  departure  wereftate- 
ly,  like  the  moon  on  the  blue  trenibhng  wave.  But 
thou  haft  left  us  in  dark  nefs,  ft;  if  of  the  maids  of  Lu- 
tha !  We  fit,  at  the  rock,  and  there  is  no  voice;  no 
light  but  the  meteor  of  fire  !  Soon  haft  thou  fet,  Mal- 
vina, daughter  of  generous  Tofcar!  But  thou  rifefl 
like  the  beam  of  the  eaft,  among  the  {pints  of  thy 
friends,  where  they  fit  in  their  ilormy  halls,  the  cham- 
bers of  the  thunder.  A  cloud  hovers  over  Cona:  its 
biue  curling  fides  are  high.  The  winds  are  beneath  it, 
with  then" wings j  within  it  is  the  dwelling  of-*,  Fincral. 
'J  here  the  hero  fits  in  daxkjiefs  ;  his  airy  fpear  is  in  his 
hand.  His  Ihield  half-covered  with  clouds,  is  like  the 
darkened  moon  ;  when  one  half  ftiU  remains  in  the 
.  .    e,  and  the  other  looks  fickly  on  the  field. 

friends  fit  around  the  king,  on  mill;  and  hear 
the  Tongs  oflWin:  he  ftrikes  the  half-viewlefs  harp; 
and  eaifes  the  feeble  voice.  The  ieffer  heroes,  with  a 
thoufand  meteors,  light  the  airy  hall.    Malvina  rifes,  in 

t  Tra  lition  ba 5  not  banded  down  the  name  of  :h:.«fon  of  Alpin.   His  father  was 

.    ..tiks.     lit  1  ills. M:.l\ .t,  u:idio,inr.Lies'.Lt  . 

■    -'  n —r'     '.  >:  'l     :.'*ic  to 

:  ,    '  '.  1  1  •     .. 
I                                                                      ■   1  -  .:  employments  ul   their  fo      ei   life. 
• 
ent  Greeks  concerning  their  departed 

I    .   .  .    . 


9*  BERRATHON: 

the  midft  ;  a  blnfh  is  on  her  cheek.  She  beholds  the 
unknown  faces  of  her  fathers,  and  turns  ancle  her  hu- 
mid eyes.  «  Art  thou  come  fo  foon,"  faid  Fingal, 
"  daughter  of  generous  Tofcar  ?  Sadnefs  dwells  in  the 
halls  of  Lutha.  My  aged  fonf  is  fad.  I  hear  the 
breeze  of  Cona,  that  was  wont  to  lift  thy  heavy  locks* 
It  comes  to  the  hall,  but  thou  art  not  there ;  its  voice 
is  mournful  among  the  arms  of  thy  fathers.  Go  with 
thv  ruftling  wing,  O  breeze  !  and  figh  on  Malvina's 
tomb.  It  rifes  yonder  beneath  the  rock,  at  the  blue 
Jlream  of  Lutha.  The  maids  J  are  departed  to  their 
place;  and  thou  alone,  O  breeze!  mourneft  there." 

But  who  comes  from  the  dufky  weft,  iupported  on  a 
cloud  ?  A  fmile  is  on  his  gray  watery  face ;  his  locks  of 
mift  fly  on  the  wind:  he  bends  forward  on  his  airy  fpear: 
it  is  thy  father,  Malvina!  "  Why  fhineft  thou  fo  foon 
on  our  clouds,"  he  fays,  "  O  lovely  light  of  Lutha  ? 
Bllt  thou  wert  fad,  my  daughter,  for  thy  friends  were 
paffed  away.  The  fons  of  little  men  1  were  in  the  hall ; 
and  none  remained  of  the  heroes,  but  Oflian,  king  of 
fpears." 

And  doft  thou  rememher,-Offian,  car-borne  Tofcarff , 
fon  of  Conloch  ?  The  battles  of  our  youth  were  many  j 
our  fwords  went  together  to  the  field.  They  law  us 
coming  like  two  falling  rocks ;  and  the  fons  of  the 
ftranger  fled.  "  There  come  the  warriors  of  Con  a," 
they  raid;  "  their  heps  are  in  the  paths  of  the  vanquifh- 
ed."  Draw  near,  fon  of  Alpin,  to  the  fong  of  the  aged. 
The  actions  of  other  times  are  in  my  foul:  my  memo- 
ry beams  on  the  days  that  are  paft.  On  the  days  of  the 
mighty  Toicar,  when  our  path  was  in  the  deep.     Draw 

f  Oflian  ;  who  had  a  ^rent  frier.rifhip  for  Malvina,  both  on  account  of  her  love 
for  hij.lon.Ofca),  .'.ml  her  ;.tlcnli(,:i  to  !>-=  own  pool's. 

f  Offianiby^a  '  '•      i         :  t,    "'      ■.      '■  :  "■     arctedU*   h  "       ■' v'tcaftinns 


,  i   I'ofcar  wa-;  ih?  f  >n  of  tlr.it  Conl   ch.  who  w 
nnlurtunate  deaih  is  ivlaisii  iu  the  ...;'.  epifutk  o 


A    POEM.  93 

near,  foil  of  Alpin,  to  the  lait  found  of  the  voice  of 
Cona. 

TJie  king  of  Morven  commanded,  and  I  raifed  my 
fails  to  the  wind.  Tofcar  chief  of  Lutha  flood  at  my 
fide,  as  I  refe  on  the  dark-blue  wave.  Our  cour'e  wr> 
to  iea-furrounded  Benathon  f,  the  ifle  of  many  ftorms* 
There  dwelt,  with  his  locks  of  age,  the  ftately  -■ 
of  Larthmor.  Larthmor  who  fpread  the  feaji  of  (he!  s 
to  Comhal's  mighty  fon,  when  he  went  to  Starna'a 
haHs,  in  the  days  of  As-;andecca.  But  when  the  chief 
was  old,  the  pride  of  his  fon  arofe,  the  pride  of  fair- 
haired  Uthal,  the  love  of  a  tlioufand  maids.  He  hound 
the  aged  Larthmor,  and  dwelt  in  his  founding  hails. 

Lung  pined  the  king  in  his  cave,  befide  his  roiling 
fea.  Morning  did  not  come  to  his  dwelling  ;  nor  the 
burning  oak  by  night.  But  the  wind  of  ocean  was 
there,  and  the  parting  beam  of  the  moon.  The  red 
fiar  looked  on  the  king,  when  it  trembled  on  the  weft- 
ern  wave.  Snith.0  came  to  Sehna's  hall:  Snitho,  com- 
panion of  Larthmor'q  youth.  He  told  of  the  king  cf 
Bej  Tgthop  :  the  wrath  of  Fineal  rofe.  Thrice  he  af* 
fumed  the  fpear,  refoived  to  flretch  his  hand  to  CjthaU 
But  the  memory  jj  of  his  aclious  rofe  before  the  king, 
?nd  he  fent  his  fun  and  Tofcar.  Our  joy  was  great  on 
the  railing  lea;  and  we  often  half-unfheathed  our 
fwords.  For  never  before  had  we  fought  alone,  in  the 
pf  the  fpcar. 

Night  came  down  on  the  ocean  ;  the  winds  depart- 
ed or  their  wings.  Cold  and  pale  is  the  moon.  The 
red  liars  lift  their  hcv.d.-:.  Our  courfe  is  flow  along  the 
coafl;  of  Serration.:  the  white  waves  tumble  on  the. 
rocks.  "What  voice  is  that,"  faid  Tofcar,  "  which 
pomes  between  the  founds  of  the  waves?  It  is  foft  bur 
mournful?  like  the  voice  of  departed  bard;.  .  Bui  I  be- 

Vol,  II.  I 

i  A  pro;:"  '  -i-Hves. 

|,  The  meaning  of  U  i       •  -        .        '    . 

ii  ntly  w  >uld  mi!  fill  i  .,:>,'.  v .  ..        , 

v 


94  BERRATHON  : 

hold  the  maid  f ,  (he  fits  on  the  rock  alone.  Her  head 
bends  on  her  arm  of  mow:  her  dark  hair  is  in  the  wjnd. 
Hear,  fon  of  Fihgal,  her  fong,  it  is  fmooth  as  the  glid- 
ing waters  of  Lavaftv."  We  came  to  the  filcnt  bay, 
and  heard  the  maid  of  night. 

"  Hew  long  will  ye  roll  aronnd  me,  blue-tumbling 
waters  of  ocean  ?  My  dwelling  was  not  always  in  caves, 
nor  beneath  the  whiftling  tree.  The  feaft  was  fpread 
in  Torthoma's  hall  ;  my  father  delighted  in  my  voice. 
The  youths  beheld  me  in  the  fteps  of  my  lovelinefs, 
and  they  blcfTed  the  dark-haired  Nina-thoma.  It  was 
then  thou  diclft  come,  O.Uthal  !  like  the  fun  of  hea- 
ven. The  fouls  of  the  virgins  are  thine,  fon  of  gene- 
rous Larthmor !  But  why  doit  thou  leave  me  alone  in 
the  mid  ft  of  roaring  waters  ?  Was  my  foul  dark  with 
thy  death  ?  Bid  my  white  hand  lift  the  fword  ?  Why 
then  halt  thou  left  me  alone,  king  of  high  Finthor- 
mo?']" 

The  tear  ftarted  from  my  eye  when  I  heard  the 
voice  of  the  maid.  I  flood  before  her  in  my  arms,  and 
fpoke  the  words  of  peace.  "  Lovely  dweller  of  the 
cave,  what  figh  is  in  that  breaft  ?  Shall  Gfiian  lift  his 
fword  in  thy  prefence,  the  deftrucYton  of  thy  foes  ? 
Daughter  of  Torthoma,  rife,  1  have  heard  the  words 
of  thy  grief.  The  race  of  Morven  are  around  thee, 
who  never  injured  the  weak.  Come  to  our  dark  bo- 
i'omed  (hip,  thou  brighter  than  that  felting  moon.  Our 
rourfe  is  to  the  rocky  Berrathon,  to  the  echoing  walls 
of  f  inthorrno."  She  came  in  her  beauty,  fhe  came 
with  all  her  lovely  fteps.  Silent  joy  brightened  in  her 
face,  as  when  the  fhadows  fly  from  the  field  of  fpring ; 
the  blue  firtam  is  rolling  in  brightnefs,  and  the  green 
bufh  bends  over  its  courfe. 

The  morning  rofe  with  its  beams.  We  came  to 
Rothma's  bay.     A  boar  rufhed  from  the  wood;  my 


■f  Vina-thoma  the  daughter  cf  Torthoma,  who  hail  been  confined  to  a  defert  if- 
fantfby  her  lover  Uthal  . 

)  Fii-.tbui:no.  the  paUtx  of  U'.ial.    The  namusin  Va^e/.toiU  arc  not  of  aLcltK; 
r.ij-iiM.'  ;  which  kua^es  it  probable  that  oiTun  fouads  his  pOvin  wu  a  uuc  ftory. 


A    POEM.  95 

fpear  pierced  his  fide.  I  rejoiced  over  the  blood  f, 
and  forefaw  ray  growing  fame.  But  now  the  found  of 
Dthai's  train  came  from  the  high  Finthcrmo  ;  they 
ijr-t  a  1  over  the  heath  to  the  chafe  of  the  boar.  Him-- 
felf  comes  flowly  on,  in  the  pride  of  his  ftrength.  He 
lifts  two  pointed  fpears.  On  his  tide  is  the  hero's 
(word.  Three  youths  carry  his  polilhed  bows :  the 
bounding  of  five  dogs  is  before  him.  His  warriors  move 
on.,  at  a  dlftaoce,  admiring  the  fteps  of  the  king.  State- 
ly was  the  fon  of  Larthmor  !  but  his  foul  was  dark. 
Dark  as  the  troubled  face  of  the  moon,  when  it  fore- 
tells the  ftorros, 

We  rofe  oh  the  heath  before  the  king  ;  he  Itopt  in 
the  midii  of  bis  courfe.  iiis  warriors  gathered  around, 
and  a  gray-haired  bard  advanced.  "  Whence  are  the 
Ions  of  the  ftrangers?"  begun  the  bard.  "  The  chil- 
dren of  the  unhappy  come  to  Berrathon  j  to  the  fword 
of  car-borne  Uthal.  He  fpreads  no  feaft  in  bis  hall  : 
the  blood  of  grangers  is  on  his  iireams.  If  from  Sl-!- 
ilk  ye  eome,  from  the  mofly  waUs  of  Fin'gaJ, 
ouths  to  go  to  your  king  to  tell  of  the  fall 
of  his  people.  Perhaps  the  hero  may  come  and  pour 
his  blood  ou  Uthal's  lwbrd;  lb  fnall  the  fame  of  Fiu- 
thormo  a:  ife,  hh 2  the  growing  tree  of  the  vale." 

"  Never  will  it  rife,  O  bard,"  I  laid  in  the  pride  df 
my  wrath*  "He  would  fhrink  in  the  preience  ofFm- 
gai;  wlioie  eyes  are  the  Sanies  of  death.  The  fon  of 
Comhal  comes,  and  the  kings  vanifh  in  his  pretence  ; 
they  are  rolled  together,  like  milt,  by  the  breath  of  his 
rage.  Shail  three  tell  to  Fingai,  that  his  people  fell  ? 
Yes  !   they  may  teil  it  bard  !  "but  his  people  ihall    fail 

I  flood  in  the  darknefs    of  my   ftrength.  Tofcar 
drew  his  (word  at  my  fide.     The  foe  came  on  kke  a 
Iheam:  the  mingled  found  of  death  arole.     Han  took 
I  z 

-  Offian  thought  that  Us  kiHingthe  boar,  on  his  firft  landing  in  Berratlwrn.  wa  i 

■  .iii^i.      ,  he  ,»r._.'c:,-  V  •;..*■■     .>.    , 

.  iccefs  offaeir  iini  action,  wtei 
engagea  iu  j.ny  deljperats  undertaking. 


-   96  EF.RRATHOX  i 

man,  fhield  met  fhield;  fteel  mixed  its  beams  with  flee!. 
jDarts  hifs  through  air  ;  fpears  ring  on  mails  ;  and 
fwords  on  broken  bucklers  bound.  As  the  noife  of  aft 
aged  grove  beneath  the  roaring  wind,  when  a  thoufand 
ghpils  break  the  trees  by  night,  inch  was  the  din  of 
arms.  But  Uthal  fell  beneath,  my  iword  ;  and  the  fons- 
(jfBerrathbufled,  It  was  then  I  law  him  in  his  beau- 
ty, and  the  tear  hung  in  my  eye.  "Thou  art  fallen}, 
young  tree,"  I  faid,  "with  all  thy  beauty  round  thee. 
Thou  art  fallen  on  thy  plains,  and  the  field  is  bare. 
The  winds  come  from  the  defert,  and  there  is  no  found 
in  thy  leaves  !  Lovely  art  thou  in  death,  fon  of  car- 
bci  He  Larthmor." 

Nina-thoina  fat  on  the  fhore,  and  heard  the  found 
of  battle.  She  turned  her  red  eyes  on  Lethmal  the 
gray-haired  hard  of  Selma,  for  he  had  remained  on  the 
ceaft  with  the  daughter  of  Tcrthcma.  "  Son  of  the 
times  of  old  !"  fhe  (aid,  "  I  hear  the  noife  of  d:.ath. 
Thy  friends  ha^e  met  with  [Jthal,  and  the  chief  is  low  f 
O  that  I  had  remained  on  the  rock,  inclofed  with  the 
tumbling  waves  !  Then  would  my  foul  be  4ad,  but 
his  death  would  not  reach  my  ear^.  Art  thou  fallen  on 
thy  heath,  O  fon  of  high  Finthormo!  thou  did  ft  have 
me  on  a  rock,  but  my  foul  was  full  of  thee.  Son  of 
1:1;.  h  Fiiithei-mo  !  art  thou  fafleu  on  thy  heath  ?" 

She  role  pale  in  her  tears,  and  faw  the  bloody  fhield 
oH  Jthal;  fne  faw  it  in  Offian's  hand ;  her  fiep.s  were 
dif.-racted  on  the  heath.  She  flew ;  fhe  found  him  ; 
fhe  felk  Her  foul  came  forth  in  a  figh.  Her  hair  la- 
fpread  on  his  face.  My  burfimg  tears  defcend.  A 
tomfrarofe  on  the  unhappy,  and  my  fong  was  heard. 
"  Reft,  haplefs  children  of  youth  !  at  the  noife  of  that 
jnofly  ifaream.  The  virgins  will  fee  your  tomb,  at  the 
chafe,  and  turn  away  their  weeping  eyes.     Your  fame 


t'/rs,  the    humane    Vir;^:   ni't  cxiciited,  v 
V'v.nig  the  n..j.Lne'-iiuai  ol  dial  gicai  inn 


A  POEM.  97 

will  be  in  the  fong  ;  the  voice  of" the  harp  will  be  heabd  '■■ 
in  your  praife.     The  daughters  of  SelmafhaU  hear  it; 
•renown  &all  he  in  other  lands.     Reft,  chil- 
dren of  youth,  at  the  noife  of  the  molTy  ftream. ' 

Two  days  we  remained  on  the  roaft.  The  heroes  of 
Eerrat;  on  convened.  We  brought  Larthmor  to  his 
halls;  the  feaft  of  ftjeUs- was  fpread.  The  joy  ofth.e 
aged  was  great ;  he  looked  to  the  arms  of  his  fathers;: 
the  arms  which  he  left  in  his  hall,  when  the- pride  of 
Uthal  arofe.  We  were  renowned  before  Larthmor, 
and  he  bleffed  the  chiefs  of  Morven  ;  but  lie  knew  not 
■  for,  was  low,  the  ftaiely  ftrength  of  Uthal. 
They  had  told,  that  he  had  retired  to  the  woods,  with 
the  tears  of  grief ;  they  had  told  it,  but  he  was  filent 
in  the  tomb  of  Rothma's  heath. 

On  the  fourth  day  we  railed  our  falls  to  the  roar  of 
the  northern  wind.  Larthmor  came  to  the  conft,  and 
bis  bards  railed  the  fong.  The  joy  of  the  king  was 
great]  he  looked  to  Rothma's  gloomy  heatli  ,  I 
the  tomb  of  his  fon  ;  and  the  memory  of  Uthal  rofe. 
'■  Who  of  my  heroes,"  he  faid,  "  lies  there  :  He  Terms 
to  have  been  of  the  kings  of  fpears.  Was  he  rendwned 
in  my  halls,  before  the  pride  of  Uthal  rofe  ?  Ye  are  fi- 
lent, fons  of  Berrathon,  is  the  king  of  heroes  low  ?  My 
heart  melts  for  thee,  O  Uthal !  though  thy  hand  w::s 
againft  thy  father  !  C  that  I  had  remained  in  the  cave  ! 
that  my  ion  had  dwelt  in  Finthormo  !  I  might  have 
heard  the  tre^d  of  his  feet,  when  he  went  to  the  chafe 
of  the  boar.  I  might  have  heard  his  voice  on  the  Waft 
of  my  cave.  Then  would  my  foul  be  glad  ;  but  now 
darknefs  dwells  in  mv 

Such  were  my  deeds,  fon  of  Alpha,  when  the  arm  of 
my  youth  was  ftrong  ;  fuch  v.  ere  f  the  actions  of  Tof- 
rar,  the  car  borne  ion  of  Cpnloch,  But  Tofcar  is  on 
his  flying  clou  I;  and  1  •  Lurha :  my  voicq 

wind,  when  it 
woods.     But  Ofiian  fhall  not  be  long  alone,  he  fees  the. 
I  & 


*>8  BERRATHON: 

it  ill  that  fhall  receive  his  gholt.  He  beholds  the  rhift 
that  fhall  form  his  robe,  when  he  appears  on  his  hills. 
The  ions  of  little  men  {hall  behold  me,  and  admire  the 
ftature  of  the  chiefs  of  old.  They  fhali-  creep  to  their 
caves,  and  look  to  the. iky  with  fear;  for  my  fteps  fhall 
be  in  the  clouds,  and  darknefs  fhall  roll  on  my  fide. 

Lead,  fon  of  Alpin,  had  the  aged  to  las  woods.  The 
winds  begin  to  rife.  The  dark  wave  of  the  lake  re- 
founds.  Bends  there  not  a  tree  from  Mora  with  its 
branches  bare  ?  Jt  bends,  fon  of  Ahpin,  in  the  ruffling 
Waft.  My  harp  hangs  en  a  blafled  branch.  The 
found  of  its  firings  is  mournful.  Does  the  wind  touch 
thee,  O  harp,  or  is  it  fome  pairing  ghoft!  it  is  the  hand 
of  Malvina  I  brt  bring  me  the  harp,  fon  of  Alpin; 
anothej  long  fhall  arife.  My  fool  fhall  depart  in  the 
found;  my  fathers  fhall  hear  it  in  their  airy  hall.  Their 
dim  faces  fhall  hang,  with  joy,  from  their  clouds;  and 
their  hands  receive  their  fon.  The  2ged  oak  bend? 
over  the  ftream.  It  fighs  with  all  its  raofs.  The  wi- 
thered fern  whittles  near,  and  mixes,  as  it  waves,  with 
OfBan's  hair. 

Strike  the  harp  and  raife  the  fcrig  :  be  near  with  all 
yjsmr  winy?,  ye  winds.  Bear  the  mournful  fovuid  away 
to  Fingal's  airy  hall.  Bear  it  to  Fir.gal's  itall,  that  he 
may  hear  the  voice  of  his  fon  ;  the  voice  of  him  that 
praifed  the  mighty. 

The  blaft  of  the  north  opens  thy  gates,  O  king,  and 
f  behold  thee  fitting  on  ir-ifi,  dimly  gleaming  imaU  thine 
arms.  Thy  form  now  is  not  the  terror  of  the  valiant  : 
brt  like  a  watery  cloud  ;  when  we  fee  the  ftars  behind 
it  with  their  weeping  eyes.  Thy  fhieid  h>  like  the  a- 
ged  moon:  thy  fword  a  vapour  half-kindled  with  fire; 
'dim  and  feeble  is  the  chief,  who  travelled  in  brightnefs 
-before.  But  thy  fteps  f  are  on  the  winds  of  the  defert, 
Snd    the  iiorrns   darken  in   thy  hand..     Thou  feakeft 

',-  This  run"  n ',*'.-■' Tit  'U-iVUr>t  inn  of  the  power  of  Fhifral  o\  c:  i  ru  winds  and  hnrm  , 


A    POEM.  9;} 

ihe  fun  in  thv  wrath,  and  hideft  him  [ft  thy  clouds. 
The  fon's  of  little  men  are  afraid  ;  and  a  thoufand 
defcehd.  But  when  thou  comeit  forth  in  thy 
rnildnefs;  tlit-  gale  of  the  morning  is  near  thy  courfe. 
The  fun  laughs  in  his  blue  fields  ;  and  the  gray  ftream 
winds  in  ita  valley.  The  bufhes  fhake  their  green  heads 
in  the  wind.     The  roes  bound  towards  the  defert. 

But  there  is  a  murmur  in  the  heath  !  the  ftormy 
winds  abate  !  I  hear  the  voice  of  Fingah  1  ong  has  it 
been  abfent  from  mine  ear  !  "  Come,  Ofiian,  come 
away,"  he  fays:  "  Fingalhas  received  his  fame.  We 
paHed  away,  like  flames  that  had  Alone  for  a  feafon, 
our  departure  was  in  renown.  Though  the  plains  of 
our  battles  are  ('.ark  and  filent  ;  our  lame  is  in  the  four 
gray  ftotoes.  The  voice  of  Oifian  has  been  heard  ;  and 
the  harp  was  lining  in  Selma.  Come,  Ofiian,  come 
away,"  he  fays,  "  and  fly  with  thy  fathers  on  clouds." 

And  come  I  will  thou  king  of  men  !  the  life  of  Ofii- 
an fails.  I  begin  to  var.ifh  on  Cona  ;  and  my  fteps  are 
not  feen  in  Selma.  Beiide  the  ftone  of  Mora  I  fhail 
fall  afleep.  The  winds  whittling  in  my  gray  hair  fhail 
not  waken  me.  Depart  on  thy  wings,  Owind:  thou 
canft  not  diilurb  the  reft  of  the  bard.  The  night  is 
long,  but  his  eyes  are  heavy  ;  depart  thou  tattling  blaft. 

But  why  art  thou  fad,  fon  of  Fingal  ?  Why  grows 
the  cloud  of  thy  lbul  ?  1  he  chiefs  of  other  times  are 
departed  ;  they  have  gene  without  their  fame.  The 
fons  of  future  years  fhail  pafs  away  ;  and  another  race 
arife.  The  people  arc  like  the  waves  of  ocean  :  like  the 
leaves  of  woody  Mbrven,  they  pais  away  in  the  rUftling 
,  nd  other  leaves  lift  their  green  heads.  Did  thy 
beauty  lait  O  Ryno  f?  Stood  the  ftrength  of  car-borne 

•  fir,?a1,who\i-as  killed  in  IreHud,  »>i  the  war  againft  Sivi.nn 
(rii:t;il,  iJ  >  r>r  the  beauty  of  bis  perfoii.Jns  fwiftnc 

-.i,  an.l  iiller  to  Caul,  \.<u  in  love  wuU 
.  I  be  following  is  her  lamentatioo  over  her  lo\cr. 

.       -i  Mi  rv:  Vs  rr.ci'S  bends  over  the  .'.arkly-rn'.Hr.g  fea.     FI13 
rm-.    Wdcrc,  K' m,  where  :!rt  thou  i 

He  c.  ro  Rev  on  doudJ  !  That 
in  I'.-    -  mill    ><:nri: 

.   :.-i,  011  CI':,,-,  u Mi;.ui,:    Strong  tfa 

-.- 


IQO  BERRATHON:    A  POEM. 

Qfcar  ?  Fingal  himfelf  pafled  away  ;  and  the  halls  of 
his  fathers  forgot  his  Heps.  And  fhalt  thou  remain, 
aged  bard  !  when  the  mighty  have  failed  ?  But  my 
fame  fhall  remain,  and  grow  like  the  oak  of  Morven  ; 
which  lifts  its  broad  head  to  the  ftorm,  and  rejoices  in 
the  courfe  of  the  wind. 


t  be,ve  winds!    that  lift  my  dark-brown  hair.    My  fitfis  will 

i  yobT  ftre'ani  ;   for  1  mufl  flccp  with  Ryno. 

ith  beauty's  Jti-us  rL-tJi  r.i.u;  r'r<>:n  the  civile.     The  night  is  round 

.:•...  ill  tin.  ■&■>  ■!'.■.  -vith  Ryno. 

J-'g-.,  and  v.heie  thvbow  i  Thy  fhieM  that  was  fo  ftrong?  Thy 

.■  :  ■  i-  !,  -.  "    r:  cbloody  fpear  oS Ryno. 

^J  in  thy  (hip;   I  fee  ihem  iUmed  with  blood.    No  arms  are  in, 

.  .■;'.!■',  thou  king  of  fpears!   arife,  th* 

;        I'm  nb(  r'ng  1  '■::;  b.    '■     ' 

lotiiy,  iry  kir.i::    mil   heal  to  the  bin  of  thy  rei  oic     Mir.vane 


-,i.artura  with  longs.    But  I  will  iiot  hear  you,  0  majUs  !   1  fiecp  with  fair-haired 


TEMORA: 


AN 


EPIC    POEM. 

IN  EIGHT  BOOKS. 


THE  ARGCVrXT. 

Cairbar,  the  Con  of  Borbar-dulhal.  lord  of  Atha  in  Conna'teht, 

chief  A  thcra- 

Cormv:  the  for 

father  of  Fuiga 

,    i 

'  .:  fan  ill  on 

tk  dcfig:'.s  coming  to  CairLar.  he  alien. 

• 

t  the  fame  time  o.dc-.c.:     .              :  ,  ■  . 

1 

.  :  ■■■        oe  :' 

- 

The  i.o;m  ..pens 

morning.    Cairbar                                 feti 

.      ., ,  when  en 

e    r  his  fi  outsbr  u  [hi  hin     i       of  the  1 

lie  iiflem 

c.^.ci!  of  his  chiefs.     I    .             tin         >  1         Mo 

fpifes  the  enen 

. 

rites  Ofcar  the 

1 

ed:    the  follow 

. 

1    • 

1 

ftherii 

- 

- 

. 

Morven.Jo  be 

1 

nel         -he  kins  th< 

1    be  mo         uf  Cormac 

1               ■  .      • 

: 

The  fceneof  thi-     -nh  is  a  plain,  near 

.  ;:'u  on 

:ke  borders  of  the  heath  oiMui-lena,iri  Uiaer. 

fPH 


BOOK  I. 

blue  waves  of  UlHn  roll  in  light.  The  green 
hills  are  covered  with  day.  Trees  (hake  their  du£ 
kv  heads  in  the  breeze.  Gray  torrents  pour  their  noi- 
fy  {breams.  Two  green  hills,  with  aged  oaks,  furrouhd 
a  narrow  plain.  The  blue  courle  of  a  ftreaih  is  there  : 
on  its  banks  Hood  Cairbar  f  of  Atha.     His  ipear  fup- 

1  Cairbar,  the  fon  or  Borbar.J.i  iv.l,  •\?*  dcf. ended  !iiu-.!!v  from  Larthon  the 
a  the  1  "..til  of  Ireland.     The 
t':i"!    -.c,e  in  r,o!fefion  oi  civ:  :  .-  -cin^um,   and  the   firft    mi. 

narchs  of  Inland  n  ,  •.'■:  of  their  rate.  lienc-;  an,:c  tij..K  C.:h\.  ,'n.«  ; x-tv  ecu  u\c 
twor.arior.^v.lmh  "i  -rminiitcd,  at  lill.ir  the  murder  of  C  rmac,  amt  the  ....>;,:•» 
fi-o:i  of  Cairbar,  iotU  ot  Atr.a,  who  is  mentioned  in  thii  pla:e. 


102  TEMORA  !  Book  I. 

ports  the  king:  the  red  eyes  of  his  fear  are  fad.  Cor- 
mac  rifes  in  his  foul,  with  all  his  ghaftly  wounds.  The 
gray  form  of  the  youth  appears  in  darkncfs  ;  blood 
pours  from  his  airy  fides.  Cairbar  thrice  threw  his 
fpear  on  earth  ;  and  thrice  he  ftroked  his  beard.  Kis 
fteps  are  fhort  ;  he  often  flops :  and  toffes  his  finewy 
arms.  He  is  like  a  cloud  in  the  defert,  that  varies  its 
form  to  every  blaft:  the  valleys  are  fad  around,  and 
fear,  by  turns,  the  fhower. 

The  king,  at  length,  refumed  his  foul,  and  took  his 
pointed  fpear.  He  turned  his  eyes  to  Moi-lena.  The 
ibouts  of  blue  ocean  came.  They  came  with  fteps  of 
fear,  and  often  looked  behind.  Cairbar  knew  that  the 
mighty  were  near,  and  called  his  gloomy  chiefs. 
,  The  founding  fteps  of  his  warriors  came.  They  drew, 
at  once,  their  fwords.  There  Morlath  f  flood  with 
darkened  face.  Hidalla's  long  hair  fighs  in  wind.  Red- 
haired  Cormar  bends  on  his  fpear,  and  rolls  his  ride- 
long-looking  eyes.  Wild  is  the  look  of  Malthos  from 
beneath  two  fhaggy  brows.  Foldath  Hands,  like  an 
oozy  rock,  that  covers  its  dark  fides  with  foam.  His 
fpear  is  like  Slimora's  fir,  that  meets  the  wind  of  hea- 
ven. His  fhield  is  marked  with  the  ftrokes  of  battle  ; 
and  his  red  eye  defpifes  danger.  Thefe  and  a  thoufaad 
other  chiefs  furrounded  car-borne  Cairbar,  when  the 
fcout  of  ocean  came.  Mor-annal  from  itreamy  Moi-le- 
na-. His  eyes  hang  forward  from  his  face,  his  lips  are 
trembling,  pale. 

"  Do  the  chiefs  of  Erin  Hand,"  he  faid,  "  ftlent  as 
the  grove  of  evening  ?  Stand  they,  like  a  fiient  wood, 
and  Fingal  on  the  coaft  ?  Fingal,  the  terrible  in  battle, 
the  king  of  flrearrry  Morven!"  "  Haft  thou  feen  the 
warrior?"  faid  Cairbar  with  a  figh.  "  Are  his  heroes 
many  on  the  coait  ?  Lifts  he  the  fpear  of  battle  ?    Or 

J-Vi.  l-.rh,  'nreat  in  the  day  of  battle.'  Hidalla',  'mildly  looking  hero.' 
Co,        ■-,  'e-fciat  fea,"     Malth-os,   '  flow  to  fyeak.'     Fold 

Fn!u-.'h,  wai  is  fyere  ft rongly  marked,  makes  igreal  figun  in  t  lie  ic.  ;:ti..t  ;he 
].,,.     .  a-  rt.,    11..    ,  r    i  ■    ■  .....      ;  i!         iic  I,       .   .      ..iu 

onfident,and  tohav« 

Jiad  s  >■  ii    ■•.!.  : ...  Ireland.    Bistrjfce 


Soot  7.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  IOJ 

comes  the  king  in  peace  ?"  "  In  peace  he  comes  :;ct, 
Cairbar.  I  have  feen  his  forward  ^pearf.  It  is  a  me- 
teor of  death  ;  the  blood  of  tboufands  is  on  lis  fteel. 
He  came  firit  to  the  more,  ftrong  in  the  gray  hair  of 
age.  Full  rofe  his  finewy  limbs,  as  he  ftrcde  in  his 
might.  That  fword  Is  by  his  fide  which  gives  no  fe- 
wound.  His  Ihield  is  terrible,  like  the  bloody 
mo('n  afcending  through  a  fterm.  Thi  n  ca  oe  Oman, 
kir.g  of  fongs ;  and  Movni's  fon,  the  firft  of  men.  Con- 
nal  leaps  forward  on  his  fpear.  Dennit  fpreads  his 
dark  brown  locks.  Fillan  bends  his  bow,  the  young 
hunter  of  ftrearoy  Moruth.  But  v  ho  is  that  before 
them,  like  the  dreadful  courfe  of  a  ftream  ?  It  is  the 
fon  of  Oman,  bright  between  his  locks.  His  long  hair 
fails  on  his  back.  His  dark  brows  are  half-ihclofed  in 
fuc!.  His  fword  hangs  looie  on  his  fide.  His  fpear 
glitters  as  he  moves.  I  fled  from  his  terrible  eyes, 
king  of  high  Temora." 

"  Then  fly,  thou  feeble  man,"  faldFoldath  in  gloo- 
my wrath.  "  Fly  to  the  gray  ftreims  of  thy  land,  ion 
of  the  little  foul!  Have  not  I  feen  that  Ofcarr  I  beheld 
the  chief  in  war.  He  is  of  the  mighty  in  danger  ;  but 
there  are  others  who  lift  the  fpear.  Erin  has  many  fons 
as  brave,  king  of  Temora  of  Groves !  Let  Foldath 
meet  him  in  the  ftrength  of  his  courfe,  and  flop  this 
mighty  ftream.  My  fpear  is  covered  with  the  blood  of 
the  valiant ;   my  fhield  is  like  the  wall  of  Tura." 

"  Shall  Foldath^  alone  meet  the  foe?"  replied  the 
dark -browed  Malihos.  "  Are  they  not  numerous  on 
our  coaft,  like  the  waters  of  many  ftreams  ?     Are  not 

tMor-anml  here  alludes  to  the  particular  appearance  of  Final's  fpfar.  If  a 
man,  upoi  n  a  fljrauge  country   kept  the  bnint  of  his  fpear  for- 

ward, it  demited,  in  ihoie  days,  that  he  came  inn  iion.le  •iia-inr,  ami  a.  /iv- 

he  was  treated  as  a.i  ev.c.ny  ;    it  he  kept  the  point  b.  uind  hi.,.,  it  \v.  .  .1 

.    '.d  he  was  immediately  invited  to  the  fcaft,  according  ti    the      ipita- 
I 

■  .  fvond  of  Fingal,  made  by  I  uno,  a  fmith  of  Locblin,  and 
after  him  pocrcnllyt  tiled  the  km  of  J. uno  :  it  is  raid  ot  this  fword,  that  it  kilU.-i 
a  niii:  at  eve.  y  tlroke  :   and  that  Fingal  never  ufed  it  but  iu  times  of  the  grcacelt 

■-  acl  ■ -.  [datl    md  Malthos  are  ftrongly  marked  in  fubfe- 

.  ./f- in  oppoiition.    The  feuds  between 

_. ir  hatred  to  one  another*' aieracoiion- 

,jems. 


104  TEMORA:  Book  J. 

t&efe  the  chiefs  who  vanquished  Sv.raran,  when  the  fons 
of  Errq  fled  ?  And  mall  Foidath  meet  their  braveft  he- 
roes :  Foidath  of  the  heart  of  pride  !  take  the  ftrength 
of  the  people;  and  let  Malthos  corne.  My  fwcrd  is  red 
wi  1  'k-L'ghter,  but  who  lias  heard  my  words  ?f" 

"  S  is  of  ^reen  Erin,"  faid  Hidalla||,  "  let  not  Fin- 
gal  hear  your  words.  The  foe  might  rejoice,  and  his 
arm  be  ftrong  in  the  land.  Ye  are  brave,  O  warriors! 
and  like  the  llorms  of  the  defert;  they  meet  the  rocks 
without  fear,  and  overturn  the  woods.  But  let  us  rncve 
in  our  firenglh,  -(low  as  a  gathered  cloud.  Then  iha1l 
the  mighty  tremble;  the  fpear  mail  fall  from  the  hand 
of  the  valiant.  We  fee  the  cloud  of  death,  they  will 
fay,  while  fhadows  fly  over  their  face.  Frugal  will 
mourn  in  his  age,  and  fee  his  flying  fame.  The  fteps 
of  his  chiefs  will  ceafe  in  Morven:  the  mofs  of  years 
Ml  grow  in  Sehna." 

Cairbar  heard  their  words,  in  filence,  like  the  cloud 
of  a  Jhower:  it  Hands  dark  on  Cromla,  till  the  lightning 
burfts  its  fides:  the  valley  gleams  with  red  light;  the 
fpirits  of  the  ftorm  rejoice.  So  Hood  the  filent  king  of 
Temora  ;  at  length  his  words  are  heard. 

'«  Spread  the  feaft  on  Mpi-lena :  let  my  hundred 
bards  attend.  Thou  red-haired  Oila,  take  the  harp  of 
the  king.  Goto  Ofcar,  chief  of  {words,  and  bid  him 
to  our  feaft.  To-day  we  feaft  and  hear  thefong;  to* 
morrow  break  the  ipears.  Tell  him  that  I  have  railed 
the  tomb  of  Cathol  f ;  that  bards  have  fung  to  his  ghoft, 
Tell  him  that  Cairbar  has  heard  his  fame  at  the  iiream 
pf  refounding  Carun  ff .  Caihmor  |i  J]  is  not  here,  Borbar- 

f  Tli-ir  ii,  vhn  h-i  hcai-ri  my  vaunting  >   He  intended  the  expreffion  as  a  rebuke 


bar-dathul,  km!  bro^ef  o)  Caitljj^ 


Booi  L  AN   EPIC  POEM.  IOJ 

duthul's  generous  race.  He  is  not  here  with  his  thou- 
fands,  and  onr  arms  are  weak.  Cathmor  is  a  foe  to 
itrife  at  the  read:  his  ibid  is  bright  as  that  fun.  But 
Cairbar  ihall  fight  with  Ofcar,  chiefs  of  the  woody  Te- 
mora !  His  words  for  Cathol  were  many ,  the  wrath 
cf  Cairbar  burns.  He  fhali  fall  on  Moi-lena:  my  fame 
lhall  rife  in  blood." 

Their  faces  brightened  round  with  joy.  Theyfpread 
over  Moi-lena.  The  Feaft  of  (bells  is  prepared.  The 
fongs  of  bards  arife.  We  heard f  the  voice  of  joy  en 
the  coafi:  we  thought  that  mighty  Cathmor  came. 
Cathmor  the  friend  of  flrangers  !  the  brother  of  red- 
haired  Can-bar.  Their  fouls  were  not  the  fame.  The 
light  of  heaven  was  in  the  bofom  of  Cathmor.  His 
towers  rofe  on  the  banks  of  Atha  :  feven  paths  led  to 
his  halls.  Seven  chiefs  ftood  on  the  paths,  and  called 
the  ftranger  to  the  feaft  !  But  Cathmor  dwelt  in  the 
wood  to  avoid  the  voice  of  praife. 

Vol.  II.  K 

king  ofTrclind,  had,  before  the  infurre&ion  of  the  Firbolg,  patted  over  into  Inis. 
nana,  fuppofod  to  be  a  part  of  South-Britain,  to  ailiit  Cunmor  king  of  that  place 
agaiclt  bis  enemies.  Li'r.mor  v..  lu'-Cei'.ful  in  the  war,  but,  in  tne  courie  01  it, 
Conmor  was  either  killed,  or  died  a  natural  death.  Cairbar,  upon  intelligence  of 
1  Kingal  to  dethrone  him,  had  dispatched  a  meflenger  fur  Cathinor, 
who  returned  into  Ireland  afew  daysbefore  the  opening  of  the  poem. 

Caiihar  btrc  takes  advantage  uii.is  brother's  abfence,  to  perpetrate  h:s  ungene- 
rous .it'ir.ns  againit  Ofcir;  foi  the  nubie  fpirit  o:  Ca.hin  ir,  had  ae  been  prelent, 
would  not  ha  e  ncrmittrd  the  laws  of  'hat  holutality,  for  which  he  was  fo  re- 
nowned hiiufei:',  to  be  vio'.-te.'.  The  brother;  ;onn  a  contralt ;  we  do  not  deteit 
tuem.an  foul  of  Cairbar  more,  than  we  admire  the  difinterefted  and 
mind  of  Cathinor. 

t  Finga'.'s  army  heard  the  joy  thrt  was  in  Cairbar's  camp.  The  character  given 
of  Cathmor  i»  agreeable  to  thet;n>c-.  ,-j't.e,  :>.  -"-h  oitcntntion,  were  hoit liable; 
•ad  others  fell  naturali.  ir..  a  heir  anceftors.    Bui 

what  marks ftrongty  the  character  ifCathn  or,  .:-  his  iTerfion  to  praife;  for  he  is 
re'srelentcrt  to  dwell  i.  •  .  ■  -  .-.- ;.-!'.  ■ ;    u  hirh  is  ltill  a 

higher  degree  ui  gei._.     ..     tb  .n  t.a  ..  -:  .-'.  :       the  p.  e.  ib  ■■•  not 

fay ,  but  the  go    Hraaa  might,  al  th<  :.  ad  of  hi  aWe,  have  heard  with  pleafurt 

the  praite  be:",  .-a  eel  on  him  by  the  pc    pie  l.j  entertained. 

m  in  the  wo;  Id  carried  hiifpitality   to  a  greater  length  than  the  an- 
cient Scots      It  «]    even  infa-.nojs,  fur  m.'.n  .  ago,  iu  a  man  of  condition,  to  have 
the  door  of  his  houfe  (hut  at  all,  "  lert,"  as  the  bards  ezprefs  it.  "  the 
fliouid  come  an J  behold  i.ii  contracted   foul."    m.:!i;  of  the  chiefs  were  potfcilcd 
liable  tifpofition  to  an  extravagant  degree;   and  the  bards,  perhaps  i.p. 
on  ;•.  teV.ih  acco  .r.r,  i.e.a  failed  to  recoi.-.r-ienj  it,  in  their  eulogi cms.  "  Cean-uia' 
fia  dai',  or  the  point  to  which  all  the  roads  of  the  ftrangers  lead,"  was  an  Invaria- 
ble eoithxt  gi-rin  by  then  Lo  the  chiefs;   on  tlu  contrary,  they  diftinguifh  the  in- 
hofpitable  by  the  title     f  «•  thl         a.    •    1     h  the  ftransers  fhun  "      1  h'-  i 
■}■:■:  ever  mot  v.  ill  . 
I  .  -  .'  lignentM  q  ■.    ' 

at.      ........... lied  bet -    hi 

biiu,  who  wrote  the  poedi 


106  TEMOP.A:  Unci-  I. 

Olla  came  with  Ins  fongs.  Ofcar  went  to  Cairbar's 
feaft.  Three  hundred  warriors  ftrode  along  Moi-leha 
of  the  dreams.  The  gray  dogs  bounded  on  the  heath, 
their  howling  reached  afar.  Fingal  faw  the  departing 
hero  :  the  foul  of  trie  king  was  lad.  He  dreaded  Cahr 
bar's  gloomy  thoughts,  amidft  the  feaft  of  fhells.  My 
fon  raifed  high  the  fpear  of  Cormac:  an  hundred  bards 
met  him  with  fongs.  C&irbar  concealed,  with  imiles 
the  death  that  was  dark  in  his  foul.  The  feaft  is  fpread; 
the  ftiells  refound :  joy  brightens  the  face  of  the  holt. 
But  it  was  like  the  parting  beam  of  the  fun,  when  he 
is  to  hide  his  red  head  in  a  ftorm. 

Cairbar  rofe  in  his  ami;  ;  darknefs  gathered  on  his 
brow.  The  hundred  harps  ceafed  at  once-.  The  clangf 
of  fhields  was  heard.  Far  difiant  on  the  heath,  Olla 
raifed  his  {(.Tig  of  wo.  My  fon  knew  the  fign  oi  death, 
and  riling,  feized  his  fpear.  "  Gfcar!"  faid  the  dark- 
red  Cairbar,  I  behold  the  fpear  ij  of  Innis  fail.  The 
fpe,ar  of  Temora^!  glitters  in  thy  hand,  fon  of  woody 
Morven  !  It  was  the  pride  of  an  hundred f+  kings,  the 
death  of  heroes. of  old.  Yield  it,  fon  of  Ofiian,  yield 
it  to  car-borne  Cairbar." 

"  Shall  I  yield,"  Ofcar  replied,  "  the  gift  of  Erin's 
injured  king  :  the  gift  of  fair-haired  Cormac,  when  Of- 
car fcatteredhis  ices?  I  came  to  Cormac' s  halls  of  joy, 
when  Swaran  fied  from  Fingal.  Gladnefs  rofe  in  the 
face  of  youth  :  he  gave  the  fpear  of  Temora.  Nor 
did  he  give  it  to  the  feebie,  O  Cairbar,  neither  to  the 
weak  in  loul.     The  darknefs  of  thy  face  is  no  ftorm  to 


fa  of  good  fortune,'  tb  [palace  of 

.-  i  a    .    .  .  I    .. 


v  ibVj  juv«  iow, 


'Jtool  T.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  T07 

me  ;  nor  are  thine  eyes  the  flames  of  death.     Do  I  fear 
hield?     Tremble  I  at  OUa's  fong?  No: 
Cairbar,  frighten  the  feeble  ;   Ofcar  is  a  rock." 

"  And  wilt  thou  not  yield  the  fpear  ?"  replied  the 
riling  pride  of  Cairbar.  "  Are  thy  words  fo  mighty 
.  Fingal  is  near  ?  Fingal  with  aged  locks  Irom 
Mbrven's  hundred  groves  !  He  has  fought  with  little 
men.  But  ho  muft  vanifli  before  Cairbar,  like  a  thin 
pillar  of  mift  before  the  winds  of  Atha  i  f"  "  Were 
he  who  fought  with  little  men  near  Atha's  darkehi  lg 
chief:  Atha's  darkening  chief  would  yield  green  Erin 
to  avoid  his  rage.  Speck  not  of  the  mighty,  O  Cair- 
bar !  but  turn  thy  {word  on  me.  Our  ftrength  is  e- 
qual ;  but  Fingal  is  renowned !  the  iirft  of  mortal 
men  !" 

Their  people  faw  the  darkening  chiefs.  Their  crowd- 
ing Reps  are  heard  around.  Their  eyes  roll  in  fire. 
A  thoufand  fwords  are  half-unfheathed.  Red-haired 
OUa  raifed  the  fong  of  battle :  the  trembling  joy  of 
Ofcar's  foul  aroie :  the  wonted  joy  of  his  foul  when 
Fmgal's  horn  was  heard.  Dark  as  the  fweiiing  wave 
of  ocean  before  the  rifing  winds,  when  it  bends  its 
head  near  a  coaft,  came  on  the  hoft  of  Cairbar. 

Daughter  of  To  fear  [|!  why  that  tear  ?  He  is  not  fal- 
len vet.  Many  were  the  deaths  of  his  arm  before  my 
hero  fell ! 

Behold  they  fall  before  my  fon  like  the  groves  in  the 

defert,  when  an  angry  ghoft  rufhes  through  night,  and 

takes  their  green  heads  in  his  hand!  Morlath  falls: 

Maronnan  dies:  Conachai  trembles  in  his  blood.   Cair- 

fore  Ofcar's  fword ;  and  creeps  in  dark- 

nefs  behind  his  (tone.     He  lifted  the  fpear  in  fecret,  and 

I  my  Oicar  s  fide.  He  falls  forward  on  his  (hield: 

his  knee  fuftains  the  chief.     But  ftiil  his  fpear  is  in  his 

hand.     See  gloomy  Cairbar  1|  falls  !  The  Iteel  pierced 

K  2 


he  death  of  Cairbar,  in  the  latter  ei.d  of  the  t 


108  TEMORA  :  Book  I. 

his  forehead,  and  divided  his  red  hair  behind.  He  lay, 
like  a  (battered  rock,  which  Cromla  ihakes  from  its 
fhaggy  fide.  But  never  Inore  ihallOfcar  rife!  he  leans 
on  his  bony  fhield.  His  fpear  is  in  his  terrible  hand : 
Erin's  fons  flood  diflant  and  dark.  Their  Ihouts  arofe, 
like  crowded  ftreams  ;   Moi-lena  echoed  wide. 

Fingal  heard  the  found,  and  took  his  father's  fpear. 
His  fleps  are  before  us  on  the  heath.     He  fpoke  tiie 
words  of  wo.     "  I  hear  the  noiie  of  war.     Young  Cl- 
ear is  alone.     Rife,  fens  of  Morven ;  join  the  heio's  , 
fword." 

Offian  rufhed  along  the  heath.  Fillan  bounded  over 
Moi-lena.  Fingal  ftrcde  in  his  ftrength,  and  the  light 
of  his  fhield  is  terrible.  The  fons  of  Erin  faw  it  far  di- 
itant ;  they  trembled  in  their  fouls.  They  knew  that 
the  wrath  of  the  king  arofe  :  and  they  forefaw  their 
death.  We  firft  arrived;  we  fought,  and  Erin's  chiefs 
withftood  our  rage.     But  when  the  king  came,  in  the 

tcntury  thev  fay,  he  was  killed  in  battle  agair.lt  Ofcar  the  fon  of  Offian,  but  de- 
ny that  he  fell  by  his  hand. 

1c  i.-.  however,  cci.air.,  thr.t  the  Irifh  hiftorians  difguife,  in  fome  meafure,  this 
pa-L  ni  theii  iii It- >ry .  An  Iriih  poem  on  this  f.  bjeft,  ..'hich,  undoubtedly  was  the 
faurce  of  their  information,  toncc  ning  the  t.:itl  !c  oi  Ctbura,  where  Cairbar  fell, 
is  i".ll  now  in  my  bands.  The  circumuances  are  lefs  to  the  difadvantage  of  the 
charafterofCairli.tr.  than  ihofe  rchitcd  by  Offian.  As  a  translation  of  the  poem 
(which  though  evidently  no  -  ery  ancient  compoiition,  -Ii^  not  want  poetieal  me- 
rit; would  extend  this  note  to  too  ('-vat  a  length,  i  fhall  only  give  the  ltory  of  it 
in  brief,  with  Ionic  cy.tr.i6ts  from  the  original  Irifh. 

Ofear,  faj  *  the-  Irifh  hard,  was  invited  to  a  feait,  at  Temora,  by  Cairbar  ling  of 
Ireland.  A  difputc  arofe  between  the  two  hcioe?,  concerning  the  exchange  of 
fpears,  which  wj  i,f -alb,  made,  between  rhctuers  and  their  hoil,  upon  fuch  oc- 
talions.  In  ;he  courfe  ,.t  their  site,  cat  ion,  Car.bar  laid,  in  a  boalt/ul  manner, 
that  he  would  bunt  on  tb-  bills  oi  Albion,  and  i  tr 'V  the  fpoils  of  a  into  Ireland, 
in  fuitc  of  all  the  efforts  of  its  inhabitant-..     '!  he  original  word,  are: 

Briatharbuan  fin ;    Bn.ubarbuan 

A  bheireadh  an  Cairftre  rua', 


Ofear 

replied,  that, 

toe   m 

Ofc.-lr 

Bria 
Ah] 
Gu'i 
Doc 

't'h  the'fpou'in 

ot   Ire: 
tharei 

oofl.  - 
to  I'lii 

..  c  oh,  &c. 
begao  to  l  \y  watte  Ireland;  but  as  he  refurn- 
agh  the  narrow  pat,  ol  G.thhra  fCacil-ghlen. 
lihahhra)  lie  was  met  nv  (ja-rnjr,  and  a  battle  enftuii,  in  which  both  the  bo.-  icil 
Ivy  mutual  wounds.  The  haul  gives  .-.  very  curious  lilt  of  the  followers  of  Ofear, 
a-  the  marched  to  battle.  They  appear  to  have  been  f.ve  hundred  in  number, 
commanded,  as  the  poet  exp'effes  it,  by  "  live  heroes  of  t  be  blood  ai  kings."  This 
poem  mentions  Fingal,  as  urrivinj;  from  Scotland,  before  Ofcar  died  of  his 
wouads. 


Boot  T.  A\   EPIC   POEM.  109- 

found  of  his  conrfe,  what  heart  of  fteel  could  ftand! 
Erin  fled  over  Moi  lena.  Death  purfued  their  flight. 
We  faw  Ofcar  on  his  fhield.  We  faw  his  blood  a- 
round.  Silence  darkened  every  face  Each  turned 
his  back  and  wept.  The  king  drove  to  hide  his  tears. 
His  gray  beard  whittled  in  the  wind.  He  bent  his 
head  above  his  fon.     His  words  were  mixed  with  fighs. 

"  And  art  thou  fallen,  Ofcar,  in  the  midft  >f  thy 
eourfe?  the  heart  of  the  aged  beats  over  thee!  He  foes' 
thy  coming  wars.  The  wars  \v\v  h  ought  to  come  he 
fees  !  But  they  are  cut  off  from  thy  fame.  When  (hall 
joy  dweil  at  Selma?  When  fjjall grief  '.-part  from  Mor- 
ven  ?  My  fons  fall  by  degrees :  Fingal  fha!l  be  the  la  ft 
of  his  race.  The  fame  which  I  have  received  fhall  pafs 
away:  my  age  will  be  without  friend  I  fhall  lit  a 
gray  cloud  in  ray  hall :  nor  fhall  I  hea  urn  of  a 

fon,  in  the  midft  of  his  founding  arms,  .7  .  j  ye  he- 
roes of  Morven  !  never  more  fhall  Ofc  1 

And  they  did  weep,  O  Fingal !  dear  was  :he  hero  to 
their  fouls.  He  went  out  to  battle,  and  .  foes  va- 
nished: He  returned,  in  peace,  amidfl  tl  ir  joy.  No 
father  mourned  his  fon  flain  in  youth:  n<  brother  his 
brother  of  love.  They  fell,  without  tears,  for  the  chief 
df  the  people  was  low  !  Bran  f  is  howling  ar  his  feet: 
gloomy  LuStTi  is  fad,  for  he  had  ofcen  led  them  to  the 
chafe  ;  to  the  bounding  roe  of  the  u  C  rt. 

When  Ofcar  faw  his  friends  around,  his  breaft  arofe 
with  fighs.  "  The  groans,"  he  laid,  "of  aged  chiefs  , 
the  howling  of  my  dogs  :  the  fudden  burfls  oi  long:-; 
of  grief*  have  melted  Ofcar's  foul.  My  foul,  that 
never  melted  before;  it  Was  like  the  fteel  of  my  fword. 
,  carry  me  to  my  hills  !  Raife  the  ftones  of  my 
renown.  Place  the  horn  of  the  deer,  and  my  fworil 
my  narrow  dwelling.  The  torrent  hereafter 
ma/  raiie  the  earth  :  the  hunter  may  find  the  fteel  and 
fay,  "This  ha-,  been  Ofcar's  fword," 

••  -  Lnd  falleft  thou,  fon  of  my  fame  !  And  fhall  I  ne- 
K  3 

■  B  u   v.    1  st   1;  Fi^.i!'    I;-,    B.iii  igniaesa  mountain-AreM*. 


IIO  TEMORA:  Bonk  L 

ver  fee  thee,  Ofcar  !  When  others  hear  of  their  fens, 
I  fhall  not  hear  of  thee.  The  mofs  is  on  thy  four 
pray  ftones  ;  the  mournful  wind  is  there.  The  battle 
•fhal'1  be  fought  without  him :  he  mall  not  purfue  the 
daik-brown  hinds.  When  the  warrior  returns  from 
battles,  and  tells  of  other  lands  ;  I  have  feen  a  tomb, 
he  will  fay,  by  the  roaring  llream,  the  dark  dwelling 
of  a  chief.  He  fell  bv  car-borne  Ofcar,  the  fir  ft  of  mor- 
tal men.  I,  perhaps,  fba.ll  hear  his  voice  ;  and  a  beam 
of  joy  will  rife  in  my  foul." 

The  night  would  have  defcended  in  forrow,  and 
mourning  returned  in  the  fhadow  of  gritf:  our  chiefs 
would  have  ftood  like  cold  dropping  rocks  on  Ivloi-lena, 
and  have  forgot  the  war,  did  not  the  king  diiperfe  his 
grief,  and  raife  his  mighty  voice.  The  chiefs,  as  new- 
wakened  from  dreams,  lift  up  their  heads  around. 

"  How  long  on  Moi-Iena  fhall  we  weep  ;  or  pour 
our  tears  in  Uilin?  The  mighty  will  not  return.  Ofcar 
fhall  not  rife  in  his  ftrength.  The  valiant  muft  fall 
one  day,  and  be  no  more  known  on  his  bills.  Where 
are  our  fathers,  O  warriors  !  the  chiefs  of  the  times 
of  old  ?  They  have  fet  like  ftars  that  have  fhone,  we  on- 
ly hear  the  found  of  their  praife.  But  they  were  re- 
nowned in  their  day,  the  terror  of  other  times.  Thus 
fhall  we  pais,  O  warriors,  in  the  day  of  our  fall.  Then 
let  us  be  renowned  when  we  may  ;  and  leave  our  fame 
behind  us,  like  the  laft  beams  of  the  fun,  when  he 
hides  his  red  head  in  the  weft.  Ullin,  my  aged  bard  ! 
take  the  fhip  of  the  king.  Carry  Ofcar  to  Selma  of 
harps.  Let  the  daughters  of  Morven  weep.  We  mall 
fight  in  Erin  for  the  race  of  fallen  Cormae.  The  days 
of  my  years  begin  to  fail :  I  feel  the  weaknefs  of  my 
arm.  My  fathers  bend  from  their  clouds,  to  receive 
their  gray-haired  fori.  But  before  I  go  hence,  one 
beam  of  fame  fhall  rife :  fo  fhall  my  days  end,  as  my 
years  begun,  in  fame  :  my  life  fhall  be  one  iiream  of; 
Jighl  to  bards  of  other  times. 

Uflin  raifed  his  white  fails-:  the  wind  ofthefouth 
came  forth.    He  bounded  en  the  waves  tov.  ards  Sehfia* 


Mool   T.  AV  rv^c  POEM.  Ill 

I  remained  in  my  grief,  hut  my  words  were  not  heard. 
The  fecit  is  fpread  on  Moi-kfna  :  an  hundred  heroes 
reared  the  tomb  of  Cairbar :  hur  no  long  is  raifed  o- 
ver  the  chief:  for  his  fold  had  been  dark  and  hloody. 
The  hards  remembered  the  fail  of  Cormac !  what  could 
they  fay  in  Cairbar's  praife  ? 

The  night  came  rolling  down.  The  light  of  an 
hundred  oaks  arofe.  Fingal  fat  beneath  a  tree.  Old 
Altl.an  f  flood  in  vthe  midft.  He  told  the  taie  of  fallen 
Cormac.  Althan  the  fon  of  Conachar,  the  friend  of 
car-borne  Cuchullin  :  he  dwelt  with  Cormac  in  -windy 
Temora,  when  Stmo's  fon  fought  with  gerierojis  Tor- 
lath.  The  tale  of  Akhan  was  mournful,  and  the  tear 
was  iu  his  eye. 

The  j|  felting  fun  was  yellow  on  Dora  *f.  Gray 
evening  began  to  defcend.  Temora's  woods  (hook 
with  the  blaft  of  the  iflconftant  wind.  A  cloud,  at 
length,  gathered  in  the  weft,  and  a  red  ftar  looked 
from  behind  its  edge.  I  flood  in  the  wood  alone,  and 
faw  a  ghoft  on  the  darkening  air.  His  ftride  extended 
from  hill  to  hill :  his  fhield  was  dim  on  his  fide.  It 
was  the  fon  of  Semo  :  I  knew  the  warrior's  face  But 
he  palled  away  in  his  blaft  ;  and  all  was  dark  around. 
My  foul  was  fad.  I  went  to  the  hall  of  (hells.  A  thou-* 
fand  lights  arofe  :  the  hundred  bards  had  fining  the 
harp.  Cormac  flood  in  the  midft,  like  the  m 
ftar,  when  it  rejoices  on  theeaftern  hill,  and  its  y 
beams  are  bathed  in  fhowers.  The  fword  of  Artho  ff 
was  in  the  hand  of  the  king  ;  and  he  looked  w 
on  its  polifhed  finds :  thriee  be  ftrove  to  draw  it,  and 
thrice  he  failed  ;  his  yellow  locks  are  fpread  on  his 
ihoulders :  his  cheeks  of  youth  are  red.  I  mourned 
over  the  beam  of  youth,  for  he  was  foon  to  let. 


i'  He   had    made    his. 

I,  related,  a; 


the  M-nMy  fide  of  a  m  mntaSn;'  it  ie  here  a  hill  tntfct  neighbourhood 


114  TEMORA:  Book  J. 

"  Althan  !"  he  faid,  with  a  fmile,  "haft  thou  be- 
held my  father?  Heavy  is  the  fword  of  the  king,  fure- 
ly  his  ami  was  ftrong.  O  that  I  were  like  him  in  bat- 
tle, when  the  uage  of  his  wrath  aroi'e  !  then  Would  I 
have  met,  like  Cuchullin,  the  car-borne  fon  of  Cantela ! 
But  years  may  come  on,  O  Althan  !  and  my  arm  be 
ftrong.  Hait  thou  heard  of  Semo's  fon,  the  chief  of 
high  Temora?  He  might  have  returned  with  his  fame; 
for  he  promifed  to  return  to-night.  My  bards  wait 
him  with  fongs ;  my  feafi  is  fpread  in  Temora." 

I  heard  the  king  in  filence.  My  tears  began  to 
flow.  I  hid  them  with  my  aged  locks ;  but  he  per- 
ceived my  grief.  "  Son  of  Conachar  I"  he  faid,  "  is 
the  king  of  Tura  f  low?  Why  burfts  thy  figh  in  lecret? 
And  why  defcends  the  tear?  Comes  the  car-borne  Tor- 
lath  ?  Or  the  found  of  the  red-haired  Cairbar  ?  They 
come  !  for  I  behold  thy  grief.  Moffy  Tura's  king  is 
low  !  Shall  I  not  rum  to  battle?  But'l  cannot  lift  the 
fpear  !  O  had  mine  arm  the  ftrength  of  Cuchullin, 
loon  would  Cairbar  fly ;  the  fame  of  my  fathers 
would  be  renewed  ;  and  the  deeds  of  other  times  !" 

lie  took  his  bow.  The  tears  flow  down,  from 
both  his  fparkling  eyes.  Grief  faddens  round  :  the 
bards  bend  forward,  from  their  hundred  harps.  The 
lone  blaft  touched  their  trembling  firings.  The  found  ||  is 
fad  and  low.  A  voice  is  heard  at  a  diftance,  as  of  one  in 
grief;  it  was  Garril  of  other  times,  who  came  from 
dark  Slimora  f .  He  told  of  the  death  of  Cuchullin,  and 
of  his  mighty  deeds.  The  people  were  {battered  round 
his  tomb :  their  arms  lay  on  the  ground.  They  had 
forgot  the  war,  for  he,  their  fire,  was  feen  no  more. 

"But  who,"  faidjhe  loft-voiced  Carril,  "come  like 
the  bounding  roes  ?  Their  ftature  is  like  the  young  trees 
of  the  plain,  growing  in  a  fliower:  Soft  and  ruddy  are 


Book  I.  AN  EF*e  POEM.  ITj 

their  cheeks  ;  but  fearlefs  fouls  look  forth  from  their 
fcyes !  Who  but  the  Ions  of  Ufnoth  f,  the  car-borne  chiefs 
of  Et  ha.  The  people  rile  on  every  fide,  like  the  llrength 
of  an  half-extinguifhed  fire,  when  the  winds  come  fud- 
den,  from  the  defert,  on  their  ruftling  wings.  The 
found  of  Caithbat's  ji  fhield  was  heard.  The  heroes 
faw  Cuchullin  %  in  Nathos.  So  rolled  his  fparkling 
eyes ;  his  Heps  were  fuch  on  the  heath.  Battles  are 
fought  at  Lego  :  the  fword  of  Nathos  prevails.  Soon 
(bait  thou  beheld  him  in  thy  halls,  king  of  Ttmora  of 
Groves." 

"And  foon  may  I  behold  the  chief!"  replied  the 
blue-eyed  king.  "  But  my  foul  is  fad  for  Cuchullin  ; 
his  voice  was  pleafant  in  mine  ear.  Often  have  we 
moved,  on  Dora,  to  the  chafe  of  the  dark-brown  hinds  : 
his  bow  was  unerring  on  the  mountains.  He  fpoke 
of  mighty  men.  He  told  of  the  deeds  of  my  fat 
and  I  felt  my  joy.  But  lit  thou  at  the  feaft,  O  bard, 
I  have  often  heard  thy  voice.  Sing  in  thepraife  of  Cu- 
chullin ;  and  of  that  mighty  flranger  ||." 

Day  rofe  on  woody  Temora,  with  all  the  beams 
of  the  eaft.  Trathin  came  to  the  hall,  the  fon  of  old 
Gellama  ||||.  "  I  behold,"  he  laid,  u  a  dark  cloud  in 
the  defert,  king  of  Innis-fail!  a  cloud  it-  feemed  at  firit, 
but  now  a  crowd  of  men.  One  ftrides  before  them 
in  his  llrength  ;  his  red  hair  flies  in  wind.  His  fhield 
glitters  to  the  beam  of  the  eaft.  His  lpear  is  in  his 
hand." 

"  Call   him  to  the  feaft  of  Temora,"  replied   the 

t  Ufnoth,  chief  of  Etha,  a  diftria  on  the  weftern  coart  of  Scotland,   had  three 
.  ..nd  Ardan,  by  Sliflama  u.  ■  niter  nt  O.i  Inill'.n:     The  three 
brotr.ers,  when  very  young,  wereferrt  over  to  Ireland  by  theii  !-.'.:. -tr.  to  Win  the 
:r  uncle,  \rhofe   military  fan:'  h't  king- 

dom     They  h?.d  jjft  arrived  in  Ulster  woen  the  n<v       if. 
B        '     ■       i,  theeldelt  of  the  three- brothers,  toot  the   a......    ...      : 

•rmv,  and  made  hca-i  aRzinU  Cairhar  the  chiet  of  Atha.     Cairt  -  havii  .    it     ..  , 
murdered  young  king  Co/mac,  at  Temcra,  the  army  >>t  Nathos  IV*  >. '.  . 
the  brothers  were  obliged  to  return,  i    t<   LTlnpr,  i     •    ■  i  :-'i .ot  iand. 

■'.•.,',-'  i 

BCatthbaKwasgrui,,:  -  >'  .  :  .  . !  his  flkield  was  made  ufe  of  to  a- 
lar.;.  bispofteritj   to  the  battles  of  i.  el 

*  '.  hot  1 1,  the,  lav;  l.  minifeii  hx'. neis  between  the  ;.c;.ron  of  Nathos  and  Ca- 
chuilin. 

t+  Nathos  the  fon  of  Ufnoth, 

|i„  Geal-'iamaa,  '  wh^tt•,h^ndcd., 


U4  temcVra  :  Book  T. 

king  of  Erin.  "  My  hall  is  the  houfe  of  firangers,  fon 
of  the  generous  Gellama  !  Perhaps  it  is  the  chief  of  E- 
tha,  coming  in  the  found  of  his  renown.  Hail,  mightyf 
ftrauger!  art  thou  of  the  friends  of  Cormac?  But  Car- 
rib,  he  is  dark,  and  unlovely  ;  and  he  draws  his  fword. 
Is  that  the  fon  of  Ufnoth,  hard  of  the  times  of  old  ?" 

"  It  is  not  the  fon  of  Ufnoth,"  laid  Carril,  "  but  the 
chief  of  Atha.  Why  comefl  thou  in  thy  arms  to  Te- 
rn ora,  Cairbar  of  the  gloomy  brow  ?  Let  not  thy  fword 
rife  againft  Cormac  !  Whither  doft  thou  turn  thy 
fpeed  V  He  pafled  on  in  his  darknefs,  and  feized  the 
hand  of  the  king.  Cormac  forefaw  his  death,  and  the 
rage  of  his  eyes  arofe.  Retire,  thou  gloomy  chief  of 
Atha :  Nathos  comes  with  battle.  Thou  art  bold  in 
Cormac's  hall,  for  his  arm  is  weak.  The  fword  enter- 
ed the  fide  of  the  king :  he  fell  in  the  halls  of  his  fa- 
thers. His  fair  hair  is  in  the  dull.  His  blood  is  fmok- 
ing  round. 

"  And  art  thou  fallen  in  thy  halls  ||,  O  fon  of  noble 
Arthc  ?  The  fhield  of  Cuchullin  was  not  near.  Nor 
the  fpear  of  thy  father.  Mournful  are  the  mountains 
of  Erin,  for  the  chief  of  the  people  is  low  !  Eleit  be 
thy  foul,  O  Cormac  !  thou  art  darkened  in  thy  youth." 

His  words  came  to  the  ears  of  Cairbar,  and  he  dol- 
ed us  f  in  the  midft  of  darknefs.  He  feared  to  ftretch 
his  fword  to  the  bards  ft  though  his  foul  was  dark. 
Long  had  we  pined  alone  :  at  length,  the  noble  Cath- 
mor  jj  ||  came.  He  heard  our  voice  from  the  cave  ;  he 
turned  the  eye  of  his  wrath  on  Cairbar. 

"  Chief  of  Atha!"  he  faid,  "how  long  wilt  thou 
pain  my  foul  ?  Thy  heart  is  like  the  rock  of  the  defert; 
and  thy  thoughts  are  dark."   But  thou  art  the  brother 


ft  Ine  Dt.-ini.s'.i  i:u'iMru-  v.  ci  e  l'o  lacrcd,  that  even  he,  who  had  juit  murdered 
bis  fovereign,  feared  to  kill  ttiem. 

i!;i  t  ;.t!.ii..e  a  ->-->:"  '■>"■'  fame  ililinterefted  hero  upon  every  occafion.  His  huma- 
niiy  .-.no  1,1.;, i  .  .y  »n  l  unparalleled:  in  fhorihehad  no  fault, but  too  much  attach- 
nur.i  ■■;  ;o  li  -.it  v  brother  a-  Cai;b:ir  1..'.-  tamily  connector,  with  t  ail  bar  pre,  ails, 
a-,  ii    i  ...  '.    it   ..\--i-  every  other  coiUidtratiun,  a.nd  makes  him  engage  in  a  war. 


2N*  T.  as  epic  poem.  rr? 

of  Cathmor,  and  he  will  fight  thy  battles.     But  Cath- 
mor's  foul  is  not  like  thine,  thou  feeble  hand  of  war  ! 
The  light  of  my  bofom  is  ftained  with  thy  deeds  :  the 
bards  will  not  fing  of  my  renown.     They  may  fay, 
■-.'  •'  •  /,  "/'/  f-,r  gloomy  Cairbar,      They 
6  over  my  tpmb  in  filence  :  my  fame  mail  not 
I  ofe  the  bards:  they  are  the  ions  of 
imes.     Their  voice  fhail  be  heard  in  other  years  ; 
j !.  :r.gs  of  TeiTiora  have  failed." 
"  We  :ame  forth  at  the  words    of  the  chief.     We 
few  him  iu  hi3  ftrength.     He  was  like  thy  yduth,  O 
Ifoigal,  wl  e.n  thou  firfl  didil  lift  the  fpear.     His  face 
of  the  fun,  when  it  is  bright :   no 
darknefs  travelled  over  his  brow.     But  he  came  with 
his  thoufands  to  Ullin  ,  to  aid  the  red-haired  Cairbar: 
and  now  lie  comes  to  revenge  his   death,  O  king  of 
'  [orven." 
"  And  let  him  come,"  replied  the  king  ;  u  I  love  a 
foo  like  Cathmor.     His  foul  is  great ;  his  aim  is  ftrong; 
his  battles  are  full  of  fame.     But  the  little  foul  is  a  va- 
pour that  hovers  round  the  marfhy  lake  :   it  nev 
on  the  green  hill,  left  the  winds  mould  meet  it 
its  dwelling  is  in  the  cave,  it  fends  forth  the   dart  of 
Our  young  heroes,  O  warriors,  are  like  the  re- 
nown of  our  fathers.    They  fig,ht  in  youth  ,  th 
their  names  are  in  the  fong.     Fingal  is  amidft  his  dark- 
ening years.     He  mult  not  fall,  as  an  aged  oak,  acrofs 
a  Fecret  ftream.     Near  it  are  the  fteps  of  the  hunter,* aa 
it  lien  beneath  the  wind.     Hoiv  has  that  tree  fallen  P  He, 
whittling,  ftrides  along. 

**  Ralfe  the  fong  of  joy,  ye  bards  of  Morven,  that  our 

•■  forgi  c  the  paft.     The  red  liars  look  on  us 

from  the  clouds,  and  fikntly  defceud.     Soon  {hall  the 

\'<>z  morning  rite,  and  Ihewus  the  fees  of 

.     Fillan  !  take  the  fpear -of  the  king  ; 

-brown  fide.     Let  thine  eyes  travel  over 
flames  cf  fire.     OJbferve  the  foe?  of  Pin- 
he 
<*  -  forks    in  th,    ( 


Il6  TEMORA:    AN  EPIC  POEM.  Book  T. 

But  ftrike  thcu  thy  ihield,  at  times,  that  they  may  not 
come  through  flight,  and  the  fame  of  Morven  ceafe. 
I  begin  to  be  alone,  my  fon,  and  i  dread  the  fall  of  my 
renown." 

The  voice  of  the  bards  arofe.  The  king  leaned  on 
the  Ihield  of  Trenrnor.  Sleep  defcended  on  his  eyes  ; 
his  future  battles  rife  in  his  dreams.  The  hoft  are 
Beeping  around.  Dark -haired  Fillan  obferved  the  foe. 
His  fteps  are  on  a  diftant  hiil :  we  hear  at  times,  his 
clanging  Ihield. 


>^v-':\<;^- 


""his  book  opens. 

•re  may  fuppof 

who  had  letircc 

. 

ther  Filiate  wb 

Trcnmor.whn- 

origin  ..fth.  coi 

felled  i  hem  fc!  vi 

Cathmordcuita 

ledo:i:ans.     He  calls  a  council  i 

nir;!.t-at 

thelrifh  army 

- 

incroduce-  the 

' 

iCht  on  the  a 

Of  the    la.ri.,     1 

f  Alha,   to  the 

T  E  M  O  R  A: 


EPIC  POEM. 

THE    ARGUMENT. 

e  may  fuppofe,  about  inidr.ipht,  with  a  foliloquy  of  Offian, 

the  arr.n ,  to  mourn  r.u  his  l.m  .fear.     l_p,.n, 

my  approaching,  he  we    t  to  fir,.: 

on  the  hill  of  Mora,  in  the   .run;  »f  Final's 

c  brothers,  the   epifode  of  Conar,  the  foil  qf 

it  Ireland,  is  introduced,  w.uich  lays  open  the 

'ae'.and  I'irbolg,  the  two  na.ir.s  who  h\rlt  n.if- 

..  lire  on  Mora;    u.on  which 

e  ha-l  formed  of  I'm  ;  rifir.gtlte  army  of  the  Ca- 

,is  chti   -  ;   repriman  Is  V  Ida  h  for  adviUr.g  j. 

re  fo  much  fuperior  in  numusr  to  the  enemy. 

v  ofCrothar,  the  aaceftor  of  the  king,  which 

rv  oi    Ireland,  and   the  on.;i..U    mtlen  lions, 

n'.M.e     I    .      •;.-.-•■  ii      ■1'uo  Iruh  chicrs  lie 

down  t»  reft,  a«U  Cat  hrnor  hi  i  tertaki  .    I       In  his  circuit  round 

theam-.v.l.c  ■.'.;,-;  ;•■{■•:••.;-,     :  .  ,:    ...-.,.    !.e  two  heroes  is  deferibed.  Cath. 

a  promife  from  01  letegy  to  be  ft  ng  over  the: 

tie  oinnion  oi  the  times,  that  the  fouls  or  the  dead 

:  be   happy,  till  then-  elegies  were  fungby   a  bard.     Mimui.".;  ijir.ei,. 

C'hrj-.r  r.n-.l  e!.:i_n.  part :    and  H.?  latter,  cafjally  meeting  wi  h  ^arril  the  fan, 

of  Kinfena,  fetids  that  bard,  with  a  funeral  fong,to  the  tomb  of  Cairbar. 

BOOK  II. 

T7ATHERf  of  heroes,  Trenmor!  dweller  of  eddying 
-*■  winds  !  where  the  da^k-red  courie  of  thunder 
the  troubled  clouds  !  Open  thou  thy  ftorrny 
halls,  and  let  the  bards  of  old  be  near:  let  them  draw- 
near,  with  their  fongs  and  their  half-viewlefs  harps. 
No  dweller  of  mifly  valley  comes ;  no  hunter  unknown 
at  his  fireams ;  but  the  car-borne  Oicar  from  the  folds 
Vol.  II.  L 

t  Though  thU  book  ha*  little  aftion,  it  is  not  the  r£vfl  important  part  of  Temo-3. 
.-.  feveral  epifodes,  run-.  >ip  the  cauf- 

;  ulat ion  of  Ireland, -th»  wars  between  th    i.  originally 

:i  illand,  its  fiin  race  <.t  kinr,,  andthe  rc-.u  -rr.e.e.u, 

.:--' are-.!  livered   by  the  poet,  witl    I 

aci  i.   n>  :<■  v  .•  i.  ,.,     • 
...     t*he Milefian  fables  of  th   fe  gentlemen  bear 
r.vc-itioi:.     Tu  trace  their  lejMn!  .  to  i 
.     a  ..-..:.-.;  but  aditauuUua  of  il.L   .  .....•..„ 

\ 


TlS  TE^ORA:  Booh  IT. 

of  war.  Sudden  is  thy  change,  my  ton,  from  what 
thou  wert  on  dr^-k  MoWena !  The  blaft  folds  thee  in 
i:s  fkirt,  am!  ruffles  along-  the  'fey. — Doft  thou  not  be- 
hold thy  fatheTj  at  the  flream  of  night  ?  1  he  chiefs  of 
Morven  fleep  far  diftarit.  They  have  left  no  ion. 
But  ye  have  loft  a  hern,  chiefs  of  ftreamy  Morven  S 
Who  could  equal  his  ftrength,  when  battle  rolled  a- 
gainfthis  fide,  like  the  darknefs  of  crowded  waters?-— 
Why  this  cloud  on  Oman's  foul  ?  It  ought  to  burn  in 
danger.  Erin  is  near  with  her  hoft.  The  king  of 
Morven  is  alone.  Alone  thou  fhait  no  be,  my  lather, 
while  I  can  lift  the  fpear. 

I  rofe,  in  my  rattling  arms.  I  liftened  to  the  wind 
of  night.  The  fhiehl  of  ITuant  fe not  heard.  I  ihook 
for  the  ion  of  Fingal.  Whv  mould  the  foe  come,  by 
night ;  and  the  dark-haired  Warrior  fail  ?  Diftant,  fal- 
len murmurs  rife  :  like  the  noife  of  the  lake  of  Lego, 
when  its  waters  ihrink,  in  the  days  of  froft,  and  all  its 
buffting  ice  refounds.  The  people  of  Lara  look  to 
heaven,  and  fprefee  the'flornrc.  My  fteps  are  forward 
on  the  heath  ;  the  fpear  of  Ofcar  in  my  hand.  Red 
ftars  looked  from  high.  I  gleamed  along  the  night. 
I  faw  Fillan  filent  before  me,  bending  forward  from 
Mora's  rock.  lie  heard  tl  (houl  of  the  foe ;  the 
joy  of  his  foul  arofe.  He  In  \  my  founding  tread, 
and  turned  his  lifted  fpear. 

"  Comeft  thou,  fon  of  nigl  ice?  Or  doft  thou 

meet  my  wrath:  The  fee.-,  oi'.'  in,  ..'.ire  mine.  Speak, 
or  fear  my  fteel.  I  Hand,  not  m  vain,  the  fhield  of 
Mbrven?s  race." 

»  Never  mnvcil  thou  ftand  in  vain,  fon  of  blue-eyed 


Book  IT.  AN   EPIC   POEM.  IJq 

CU;  ho.  FingaIbeginsto.be  alone;  darknefs  gathers 
on  the  laft  of  his  days.  Yet  he  has  two  t  fons  who 
ou^ht  to  fliine  in  war.  Who  ought  to  be  two  beams 
of  light,  near  t\ic  flops  ct  his  departure." 

••  S  n  ofFingal,"  replied  the  youth,  "it  is  not  long 
fince  I  raifed  the  fpear.  Few  are  the  marks  of  mv 
in  battle,  but  my  foul  is  fire.  The  chiefs  of  Bob 
ga  ji  crowd  around  the  fhield  of  generous  Cathmor. 
Their  gathering  is  on  that  heath.  Shall  my  fteps  ap- 
proach their  holi  ?  I  yielded  to  Ofcar  alone,  in  the 
Rrife  of  the  race,  on  Cona." 

"Fulan,  thou  fhalt  not  approach  their  hoft  ;  nor  fall 
before  thy  fame  is  known.  Mr  name  is  heard  in  long : 
when  needful  I  advance.  From  the  fkirts  of  night  I 
fhall  view  their  gleaming  tribes.  Why,  FUlan,  didft 
thou  ipeak  of  Ofcar,  to  call  forth  my  figb  ?  1  muft  for- 
get \  the  warrior  till  the  ftorm  is  rolled  away.  Sad- 
nefs  ought  not  to  dwell  in  danger,  nor  the  tear  in  the 
eye  of  war.  Our  fathers  forgot  their  fallen  fons, 
till  the  noife  of  arms  was  paft.  Then  ibrrow  returned 
to  the  tomb,  and  thefong  of  bards  arofe." 

"  Conar  ft  was  the  brother  of  Trathal,  firft  of  mor- 
L  a 

f  Thru  is,  two  fons  in  Ireland.  Fergus,  the  fecor.d  Ton  of  Fin^l,  »a<,  at  that 
time,  'in  an  expedition,  w  hich  is  mentioned  in  one  of  the  lefter  p.  cms  of  O.han. 
He,  acco/uny;  i.>  ;"o:uc  tradition-,  writhe  anceiU.r  ut  c'e;0us,  the  for.  of  Ere,  or 
Arcath,  commonly  <  ailed  r'ctgua  the  fecond  in  the  acottiih  hihories.  The  begin- 
ning oi  toe  rc:L...  of  i'cr.yis,  over  the  -cols,  is  placed,  by  die  molt  approved  annais 
o:"  Scolia'.d.  in  liic  fourth  \ear  of  t i,e  fmh  a^e :  ;i  tuij  eciuury  -.i\ci  the  death  of 
Olftan.  Ihc  genealogy  01  hi  family  is  recorded  thus  I,y  the  highland  &.r.ich>e-  , 
*  Fergus  Mac-Arcath,  Mar.kJhongi.al,  Mac-Fergus,  iMiic-Fioi.ga.l  la  baai'.  1  e. 
Feirr  *  the  ion  wt  An  ah,  the  to.,  oi  Conga!,  '.he  1  -,h  t  r  \.-gii3, '  he  f  n  of  i-'inga;  lite. 
victorious.'  This  fu'eject  is  treated  more  at  large,  in  tne  DiUcUatiuu  prt.ix.c.  ij 
the  poems. 

;;hcrn  parts  of  Ireland  went  for  fome  time,  under  the  name  of  BoU?., 
from  the  Ftrbol;;  ..r  hcjga:  of  tfntain,  who  fettlcJ  a  c  dn.i  th  re.  bok;  ligaii.ts 
a  c,a  ,er,  irom  which  proceeds  Fir-tolir,  i  e.  bow-men,  to  tailed  from  their  utu.,; 
tows,  more  than  -in ,'  or  ti.e  neighbouring  nations 

"4  1:  is  remarks!  le,  that,  after  tbi:  paffage,  Ofcar  is  not  mentioned  in  allTemoia. 

The  Situation,  of  thechara.  cer,  who  act  n.  ihe  poem  an  fo  intcrchinir,  that  olhc: «, 

■  ■■  :  fu'-je/t,  could  not  he  inf.-oduecd  with  any  hiltre.     'i"hougn  the  •  yi- 

.     iay  leem  to  flow  naturally  eiiou-»h  from  the  con.  .: 

r..i.o   Qitwn,   in    a    prctcl.:,;    r,  .;e,   and,  more   a:    lur.-.i.    .n 

:  r.ation  prefixed  to  this  enaction,  thai  the  poet  had  a  fa.;i. 

•-  the  firft  king  of  Ireland,  wsj  the  fon  of  Trenmor,  the  great-grand. 
father  of  i'i.neal.  It  wason  account  of  this  fairulv  unmeet  ov.,  that  r  n  "il  w.i- ;i:- 
gagrd  in  •  -i.rd.to    Conar.    '1  "ho-  lew  of  the  m  tio  .s 

ul  Trejunoi  are   Hieatkined  in  Ofii*i.  .»  poem:,  '.el,  f.oiii  th.  honourable  «n;iLi.«> 


*20  TEMORA:  Bonh  TI' 

tal  men.  His  battles  were  on  every  ccaft.  A  thoufand 
(breams  rolled  down  the  blood  of  his  foes.  His  fame 
filled  green  Erin,  like  a  pleafant  gale.  The  nations 
gathered  in  Uilin,  and  they  bleffed  the  king  ;  the  king 
of  the  race  of  their  fathers,  from  the  land  of  hinds. 

"  The  chiefs  f  of  the  fouth  were  gathered,  in  the 
darknefs  of  their  pride.  In  the  horrkl  cave  of  Moma, 
they  mixed  their  fecret  words.  Thither  often,  they 
faid,  the  fpirits  of  their  fathers  came  ;  (hewing  their 
pale  forms  from  the  chinky  rocks,  and  reminding  thtvn 
of  the  honour  of  Bolga.  Why  (liould  Conar  reign,  the 
fon  of  dreamy  Morven  ? 

"  They  came  forth,  like  the  ffreams  of  the  defert, 
with  the  roar  of  their  hundred  tribes.  Conar  was  a 
rock  before  them  :  broken  they  rolled  on  every  fide. 
But  often  they  returned,  and  the  fons  of  Ullin  fell. 
The  kiltie  flood,  among  the  tombs  of  his  warriors, 
and  darkly  bent  his  mournful  face.  His  foul  was  rol- 
led into  itfelf;  he  marked  the  place  where  he  was  to 
fall ;  when  Trathal  came,  in  his  ftrength,  the  chief  of 
cloudy  Morven.  Nor  did  he  come  alone  ,  Colgar  |[ 
was  at  his  fide ;  Colgar  the  fon  of  the  king  and  of 
white-bofomed  Solin-corma. 

"  As  Trenmor,  clothed  with  meteors,  defcends  from 
the  halls  of  thunder,  pouring  the  dark  fiorni  before  him 


|i  Colnr-cr,  '  f.o-cely-  no'i'.n"  w.rrior  '    Salin-COTma,  «  Wua  eyes  '    Colgar  was 
theeldetl  .      '  atbal:  Coi    h  I,    rho  »a      lefath 

rv  v-im;  win  n  the  -.r:  t  ■::-  r\    e_..i"    '  1  :     1  ?i->vJ  i*.;     umciI-    i  -  v.  reinai  knbk  ,  thai, 

i         ,    •in;  which,  probably  j 

life  ir.d  unlii. icli-  de:-.:hof  ,h.it  hero.     From  feme 

rvaage-  oii.cc.v.ir.g  luni,  we  learn,  indeed,  lUat  he  wa>  brave,  but  he  wanted  ion. 

duCt. 


Booh  TT.  AN    EPIC    POEM.  121 

over  the  troubled  fea:  lo  Colgar  defcended  to  1  attic, 
and  wafted  the  echoing  Field.  His  father  rejoiced  over 
(|he  hero:  but  an  arrow  came.     His  tomb  was  raifed, 

without  a  tear.  The  king  was  to  revenge  his  ion.  Lie 
tightened  forward  in  battle,  till  Bolga  yielded  at  her 
ftreams. 

"  When  peace  returned  to  the  land,  and  his  blue 
waves  bore  the  king  to  Morven:  then  he  remembered 
his  Ton,  and  poured  the  iilent  tea.-.  Thrice  did  the 
bards,  at  the  cave  of  Furmono,  call  the  foui  of  Colgar. 
They  called  him  tc  the  hills  of  his  land;  he  heard  them 
in  his  mift.  Tjathal  placed  his  fword  in  the  cave,  that 
the  fpirit  of  his  fon  might  rejoice.v 

"  Colgar  f,  fon  of  Trathal,"  faid  Fillan,  "  thou 
wert  renowned  in  youth!  But  the  king  hath  not  mark- 
ed my  fword,  bright-ftreammg  on  the  held.  I  ^o  forth 
with  the  crowd:  I  return,  without  my  fame.  But  the 
foe  approaches,  Oman.  1  hear  their  murmur  on  die 
.  heath.  The  found  of  their  Heps  is  like  thunder,  in  ,\vc 
bofom  of  the  ground,  when  the  rocking  hills  make  their 
groves,  and  not  a  blaft  pours  from  the  darkened  iky." 

Sudden  I  turned  on  my  fpear,  and  railed  the  nam;: 
of  an  oak  en  high.  I  fpread  it  large  on  Mora's  wind. 
Cathmor  {tope  in  his  courfe.  Gleaming  lie  ftood,  like 
a  rock,  on  whole  iides  are  the  wandering  or  blafLs , 
which  feize  its  echoing  ftreams  and  clothe  them  over 
with  ice.  So  ftood  tiie  friend  ||  of  ibrar.gers.  The 
winds  lift  his  heavy  locks.  Thou  art  the  taileft  of  the 
race  of  Erin,  king  of  ftreamy  Atha  ! 

"  Firft  of  bardo/'  faid  Cathmor,  "  Fonar  f,  call  the 
chiefs  of  Erin.     Call  red-haired  Cormar,  dark -b; owed 

t  Tlie  poet  becins  here  to  mark  (trongly  the  character  of  Fillan,  who  is  to 
make  fo  (treat  a  fipure  in  the  fequcl  of  t he  poem,  lie  has  the  impatience,  the  am- 
bition, a-id  f.re  winch  are  peculiar  lo  .1  v,unS  hero.  Kii i!<ei!  with  the  t;.-r.e  of 
Colipir,  hef.irr  '.    o-.-.  untimely  i'all.     l/r.'i.i  Kiilar.'-;  expreilion  in  this.  .    . 

would  fecm. 

tediftinguiihedjhythkha   i  i:ene   ..ity 

-  ,  which  was  I  e,  even  in   ;i.u:c   ..: 

pitality. 

H  Fonar,  '  the  man  of  fonp.>  Befoi  e  the  ir.tro.'.uction  of  Ch  i:li<nity,  a  name 
was  not  impofej  upon  any  perfen,  ti;l  U>-.  1.  .  •  ,'i:u:>:-.;;/hcd  hiini'eit  '-','  w;.u-  re- 
narfcable  u&iou,  from  which  his  name  ihuio.  -e  ...iveu. 


1%%  ~T F.MORA:  Bon'*  II. 

Malthos,  the  fide-fong-looking  gloom  of  ?/Tar6nan. 
Let  tlie  pride  of  Foldath  appear:  the  red-rolfing  eye  of 
Turlotho.  Nor  let  Hidalla  be  forgot ;  his  voice,  in 
danger,  is  like  the  found  of  a  fhower,  when  it  falls  in 
theblafted  vale,  near  Atha's  falling  ftream." 

They  came,  in  their  clanging  arms.  They  bent  for- 
ward to  his  voice,  as  if  a  ipirit  of  their  fathers  fpoke 
from  a  cloud  of  night.  Dreadful  fhone  they  to  the 
light ;  like  the  fall  of  the  fiream  of  Bromof,  when  the 
meteor  lights  it  before  the  nightly  ftranger.  Shudder- 
ing, he  Hops  in  his  journey,  and  looks  up  for  the  beam, 
of  the  morn. 

"  Why  ||  delights  Foldath,"  faid  the  king,  "  to  pour 
the  blood  of  foes,  by  night  ?  Fails  his  arms  in  battle,  in 
the  beams  of  day  ?  Few  are  the  foes  before  us,  why 
mould  we  clothe  us  in  rnift  ?  The  valiant  delight  to 
fhine,  in  the  battles  of  their  land.  Thy  cqunfel  was 
in  vain,  chief  of  Moma ;  the  eyes  of  Morven  do  not 
ileep.  They  are  watchful,  as  eagles,  on  their  moffy 
rocks.  Let  each  collect,  beneath  his  cloud,  the  ft  'engtn 
of  his  roaring  tribe.  Tomorrow  I  move,  in  light,  to 
meet  the  foes  of  Bolga  !  Mighty  %  was  he,  that  is  low, 
the  race  of  Borbar-durhul  !" 

"  Not  unmarked,"  faid  Foldath,  "  were  my  fteps 
before  thy  race.  In  light,  I  met  the  foes  of  Cairbar; 
the- warrior  praifed  my  deeds.  But  hisftcne  was.raif- 
cd  without  a  tear  !  No  bard  lung  ft  over  Erin's  king  ; 
and  fhall  his  ides  rejoice  along  their  moffy  bills  ?  No: 
they  mtrft  !!-,-i  rejoice:  he  was  the  friend  of.  Foldath. 
Cur  words  were  mixed,  in  fecret,  in  Moma's  filent 
cave  ;  whilft  thou,   a  boy  in  the  field,  purfuedft  the 


it  he  intends  to  re 


&oi   TT,  AN   EPIC  POPW.  I23 

's  beard.     With  Moraa's  fons -Khali  rufh  abroad, 
and  find  the  foe,  on  his  duiky  hills.     Fingal  fllall  lie. 
his  foBgj  the  gray  haired  king  of  Sehna." 
>Ii  thou  think,  thou  feeble  nun,"   replied   the 
f  Atha;   "  doft  thou  think  that  he  can  fall,  with- 
out his  fame,  in  Erin  ?  Could  the  bards  be  filent,  at  the 
the  mighty  Fingal  ?     The  long  would  buril  in 
fecret ;  and  the  fpirit  of  the  king  rejoice.     It  is  when 
thou  fhalt  fall,  that  the  bard  (hall  forget  the  fbng    Thou 
art  dark,  chief  of  Mom?.,  though  thine  arm  is  a  t&npeff 
in  war.     Do  I  forget  the  king  o'l  Erin,  in  his  narrow 
houfe  :    My  foul  id  not  left  to  Cairbar,   the  brother  of 
ray  love.     I  marked  the  "origin  beams  of  joy,   \  !  u -h 
t,  ivelkd  ever  his  cloudy  mind,  wheal  returned,  with 
fame,  to  Atha  of  the  ffrearris." 

Tail  they  removed,  beneath  the  words  of  the  king  ; 
each  to  his  own  dark  tribe  ;  where  humming,  they  rol- 
led on  the  heath,  faiht-gl'Jtering  to  the  liars:'  like 
waves  in  a  rocky  bay,  before  the  nightly  wind.  Be- 
neath an  oakj  lay  the  chief  of  Atha  :  his  fliirfd,  a  duf- 
ky  round,  hung  high..  Near  him-,  againft  a  rock,  lean- 
«  •;  ^  e  in  auger  t  of  Inls-huna:  that  beam  of  light,  with 
wandering  locks,  from  Lumog  of  the  roes.  Ai  didance 
lar,  with  the  deeds  of  the  days  of 
The  fbng  fails,  at  times,  in  Lubar's  growing 
roar. 

<c  Crothar  j|,"  begun  the  bard,  "  firfi  dwelt  at  Atha's 
dream.    A  thoufaud  *  caits,  from  the  moun- 

i  By  the  flranser  of  Ini'-huna,  is  meant Soltwlfs,  the  daughter  of  Cnmor  king 
of  Iiiis-huna,  the  an  icr.t  n:m  uf  that  part  of  So  uh-BnUm,  n  inch  i--  next  to  the 
irlfli  coalt.  bhe  had  followed  Cathmor  in  difguife.  Her  llory  is  related  at  large 
in  the  fourth  book. 

!!  Crothar  was  the  am  e'.tor  of  Cathmor,  and  the  firft  of  h:r,  family,  who  had 
fcilicd  in  Atha.  It  wa«  in  his  time,  that  the  ii"lt  wars  were  kindled  between  the 
FSrbolg  and  Cael.  The  propriety  of  the  epifodc  1-  evident ;  n  1  :.■:  coi-.teit  wliicU 
originally  rule  ht '.ween  Crol'i.ir  ..ml  Co'iar,  fuhli'ied  afterward  between  their  po. 
ftcrity,  and  was  the  foondation  of  the  nory  of  the  poem. 

1  From  this  circumftance  we  ma    i    '.  1.,  thi'  -re. ir'  of  beil  li-.'  with  Hone  was 

in    Ireland  fo  ea>  1      .     1  ..         .  .     ■'    k  ■n,i.    r.      ,-'.''.    n     .,._•  o  :  my  were 

■:  in   the  coimtr\,  the  artso!  ■  .m'  i  :•    •■     .  1   .      ■  .-i  t  afe  imong  them; 

.'.    .      .      ■   1  ■     ■      :  ■>,  >'.ithi:ior,  which 

C(  old    no;  well   be    applied    :.-  1'     •■....-.  .     ..  '.'■>  •■•       I'-.    •    ■'.-.  :  ■•  ta  the.  I  tijtin  very 

ea-ly  to  build  With  (tone.     Mor.e  of  the   1  ■  •■■  ■  emii.g  I  i-fcinnr.l 

were  of  wood-      rVfoirmalwa  .        i'.3  met  to  repeat  their 

compoatio  -  ; .  t^vii:  tu  thejudgoventof  thekijjgia 

t   .  ...» 


124  TFMORA:  Booh  11. 

tains,  formed  his  echoing  hall.  The  gathering  of  the 
people  was  there,  around  the  feafl  of  the  blue-eyed 
king*  But  who,  among  his  chiefs,  was  like  the  flately 
Crothar  ?  Warriors  kindled  in  his  prefence.  The 
young  figh  of  the  virgins  rofe.  In  Alnecma  f  was 
the  warrior  honoured;  the  firfiofthe  race  of  Bolga. 

.  "  Me  purfued  the  chafe  in  Ullin:  on  the  mofs-cover- 
ed  top  of  Drumardo.  From  the  wood  looked  the 
daughter  of  Cathmin,  the  blue-rolling  eye  of  Con -lama. 
Her. figh  rofe  in  fecret.  She  bent  her  head,  midit  her 
wandering  locks.  The  moon  looked  in,  at  night,  and 
faw  the  w  hite-tofflng  of  her  arms  ;  for  fhe  thought  of 
the  mighty  Crothar,  in  the  feafon  of  her  dreams. 

"  Three  days  fealied  Crothar  with  Cathmin.  On  the 
fourth  they  awaked  the  hinds.  Con-lama  moved  to 
the  chafe,  with  all  her  lovely  fteps.  She  met  Crothar 
in  the  narrow  path.  The  bow,  fell,  at  once,  from  her 
hand.  She  turned  her  face  away,  and  half-hid  it  with 
her  locks.  The  love  of  Crothar  rofe.  He  Drought  the 
white-bofomed  maid  to  Atha.  Bards  raifed  the  fong 
in  her  prefence  ;  joy  dwelt  round  the  daughter  of  Ul- 
lin. 

«  The  pride  of  Torlcch  rofe,  a  youth  who  loved  the 
white-handed  Con  lama,  lie  came  with  battle,  to  Al- 
necma ;  to  Atha  of  the  roes.  Cormul  went  forth  to 
the  ftrife,  the  brother  of  car-borne  Crothar.  He  went 
forth,  but  he  fell,  and  the  figh  of  his  people  rofe.  Si- 
lent and  tall,  acrofs  the  ftreaiii,  came  the  darkening 
ftrength  of  Crothar :  He  rolled  the  foe  from  Alnecma, 
and  returned,  rnidft  the  joy  of  Conjama. 

<•  Battle  on  battle  comes.  Blood  is  poured  on  blood. 
Tl  i  t(  mbs  of  tlie  valiant  rife.  Erin's  clouds  are  hung 
round  withghofts.  The  chiefs  of  the  fouth  gathered 
round  the  echoing  fhield  of  Crothar.  He  came  with 
death  to  the  paths  of  the  foe.  The  virgins  wept,  by 
the  firearm  oi  Ullin.     They  looked  to  the  mill  of  the 


Bonk  IT.  AN   EPIC  POEM.  12? 

hill,  no  hunter  defcer.ded  from  its  folds.  Silence  dark- 
ened in  the  land :  blafts  fighed  lonely  on  graiTy  tombs. 

"  Defccnding  like  the  eagle  of  heaven,  with  all  his 
rufth'ng  wings,  when  he  forl'akesthe  blaft  with  joy,  the 
fon  of  Trenmor  came  ;  Conar,  arm  of  death,  from 
Morven  of  the  groves.  He  poured  his  might  along 
green  Erin.  Death  dimly  ftrode  behind  his  fword. 
The  fons  of  Bolga  fied  from  his  courfe,  as  from  a  ftream, 
that  burfling  from  the  f.ormy  defert,  rolls  the  fields  to- 
gether, with  all  their  echoing  woods.  Crothar  f  met 
him  in  battle:  but  Alnecma's  warriors  fled.  The  king 
of  Atha  flowly  retired,  in  the  grief  of  his  foul.  He, 
afterwards,  fhone  in  the  fouth  ;  but  dim  as  the  fan  of 
autumn ,  when  he  viiits,  in  his  robes  of  mift,  Lara  of 
dark  ftrearcs.  The  withered  grafs  is  covered  with 
dew  :   the  fields  though  bright,  is  fad." 

"  Why  wakes  the  bard  before  me,"  faid  Cathmor, 
"  the  memory  of  thofe  who  fled  ?  Has  ibme  ghciv,  from 
his  dufky  cloud,  bent  forward  to  thine  ear  ;  to  frighten 
Cathmor  from  the  field  with  the  tales  of  old?  Dwellers 
of  the  folds  of  night,  your  voice  is  but  a  blait.  to  me  ; 
which  takes  the  gray  thift'e's  head,  and  ftrews  its 
beard  on  ftreams.  Within  my  bofom  is  a  voice,  others 
hear  it  not.  His  foul  forbids  the  king  of  Erin  to  fhrink 
back  from  war." 

Abafhed  the  bard  finks  back  in  night;  retired,  he 
bends  above  a  ftream,  his  thoughts  are  on  the  days  of 
Atha,  when  Cathmor  heard  his  fong  with  joy.  His 
tears  come  rolling  down:  the  winds  are  in  his  beard. 

Erin  fleeps  around.  No  fleep  comes  down  on  Cath- 
ie or  -  ryes.  Dark,  in  his  foul,  he  faw  the  fpirit  of 
low-laid   Cairbar.     He  faw  him,  without  his  fong,  rol- 

tThc  rlelicw  of the  bard,  with  regard  t 
..,r,  to  ■Aht.mtheepifo 
■ 
an  unfavourable  Ugh  .      ':'..:  \    rtls,  being  o! 
•       ■  I  I    i    '  -  E    '    ;■ 
:  ,'.■.',. 

fr   ,ii  hi    forejeetng  the  unftirt     ati    i  i1. 

.  .   in  that   of  hi      no      it  I  r 


126  TEMORA:  Bool  II. 

led  in  a  blaft  of  night.  He  rofe.  His  Hep-,  were 
round  the  hoft.  He  ftruck,  at  times,  his  echoing  fhieki. 
The  found  reached  Oman's  ear,  on  Mora  of  the  hinds. 

"  Fillan,"  i  laid,  "  the  foes  advance.  I  hear  the 
fhield  of  war.  Stand  thou  in  the  narrow  path.  Om- 
an mall  mark  their  courfe.  If  over  my  fall  the  hoft 
(hall  pour;  then  be  thy  buckler  heard.  Awake  the 
king  on  his  heath,  left  his  fame  mould  ceafe."  I  ftrode 
in  all  my  rattling  arms  ;  wide-bounding  over  a  ftream 
that  darkly  winded,  in  the  field,  before  the  king  of  A- 
tha.  Green  Atha's  king,  with  lifted  fpear,  came  for- 
ward on  my  courfe.  Now  would  we  have  mixed  in 
horrid  fray,  like  two  contending  ghofts,  that  bending 
forward,  from  two  clouds,  fend  forth  the  roaring 
winds  ;  did  not  Offian  behold,  on  high,  the  helmet  of 
Erin's  kings.  The  eagle's  wing  fpread  above  it,  ruft- 
ling  in  the  breeze.  A  red  ftar  looked  through  the 
plumes.     I  ftopt  the  lifted  fpear. 

"  The  helmet  of  kings  is  before  me  !  Who  art  thou 
fon  of  night  ?  Shall  Oliian's  fpear  be  renowned,  when 
thou  art  lowly-laid  ?"  At  once  he  dropt  the  gleaming 
laUce.  Growing  before  me  feemed  the  form.  He 
ft  retched  his  hand  in  night ;  and  fpoke  the  words  of 
kings.  ^ 

"  Friend  of  the  fpirit  of  heroes,  do  I  meet  thee  thus 
in  fhades  ?  I  have  wifhed  for  thy  ftately  fteps  in  Atha, 
in  the  days  of  feafts.  Why  lhould  my  fpear  now  a- 
rife  ?  The  lun  muit  behold  us,  Oflian;  when  we  bend, 
gleaming,  in  the  ftrife.  Future  warriors  ihall  mark 
the  place:  and,  fhuddering,  think  of  other  years.  They 
Ihall  mark  it,  like  the  haunt  of  ghofts,  pleafant  and 
dreadful  to  the  foul." 

"  And  Ihall  it  be  forgot,"  I  faid,  "  where  we  meet 
in  peace:  Is  the  remembrance  of  battles  always  plea- 
fant to  the  foul  ?  Do  not  we  behold,  with  joy,  the 
place  where  cur  fathers  feafted  ?  But  our  eyes  are  full 
of  tears,  en  the  field  of  their  wars.  This  ftone  mall 
rife,  with  all  its  mofs,  and  fpeak  to  other  years.  Mere 
Catbmor  a:id  OJJian  met  J    the  "warriors  met  in  peace  !   When 


gaol  77  AN  EPIC  POEM.  If] 

O  ftone,  fhalt  fail:  and  Lubar's  ftream  roll  quite: 
away  !  then  fhall  the  traveller  come,  and  bend  here 
;,  in  reft.  When  the  darkened  moon  is  rolied 
ov?r  his  head,  our  fhadowy  terms  may  come,  and, 
mixing'  with  his  dreams,  remind  him  of  this  place.  But 
why  t:'rneft  thou  lb  dark  away,  Ion  of  Borbar-du- 
thirl  f" 

"  Not  forgot,  fon  of  Fingal,  mail  we  afcend  thefe 
winds.  Our  deeds  are  ftreams  of  light,  before  the 
eyes  of  bards.  But  darknefs  is  roiled  on  Atha:  the 
king  is  low,  without  his  fong  :  ftill  there  was  a  beam 
towards  Cathmor  from  his  ftormy  foul ;  like  the  moon, 
in  a  cloud,  amidft  the  dark-red  cojirfe  of  thunder." 

"  Son  wf  Erin,"  I  replied,  "  my  wrath  dwells  not 
in  his  houfe  [|.  My  hatred  flies,  on  eagle-wing,  from 
the  foe  that  is  low/     He  fhall  hear  the  long  oi  bards  ; 

•  (hall  rejoice  on  his  winds." 

Cathmor's  fwdling  foul  arofe :  he  took  the  dagger 
his  fide;  and  placed  it  gleaming  in  my  hand, 
iced  it,  in  my  hand,  with  figh's,  and,  lilent,  ftrode 
.     Mine  eyes  followed  his  departure.     lie  dimly 
d,  like  the  form  of  a  ghbft,  which  meets  a  tra- 
veller by  night,  on  the  dark  fkirted  heath.     His  words 
k  like  fengs  of  old  :  with  morning  ftrides  the 
tfnfiniftied  (hade  away. 

Who  f  comes    from  Lubar's  vale  ?  From  the  folds 

of  the  morning  milt  :  The  drops  of  heaven  are  on   Ins 

1 1;-;  fteps  are  ;-i  the  p  ad.    It  i?  Car- 

rii  of  ther  times.     He  comes  from  Tura's  filc&t  cavs, 

-  ...ihu!,  '  the  furly  warrior  of  the  dark-brown  eyes.'  Th2t  his  name, 
faitecl  well  with  his  character,  wc  mav  <  ,  -.i  tlM  itory  delivered 

:  :.u;i,  by  M  ,liho.,  t  r*  aril  '.he  civt  of  the  iixth  boi  k.     lie  was  the  bro- 
ther of  itat  ColculU,  who  is  mentioned  in  the  e;>  lode  v.  hii  1;  ln^nii  the  fourth 
book. 
]  The  trrave,  often  poetically  called  a  houfe.    Thi'  rcplv  of  Oman  'bound-:  with 

*  iltcd  fentimenls  of  a  n-b'.;  :i  in.l.  '1  !»•':>.'  ,  i  ''■■■'■■  n  ei.  living,  he  was 
the  moft  injured  by  Cairbar,  yel  he  laid  foe  was  low.  How 
different  is  this  from  the  1  havioui  jfthet  roes  of  other  ancient  poems  i  '  Cyn- 
t.1i"i  avrc:- 

*J  The  morning    >f  m  the  opening  of  the  poem,  comes  on. 

i  co  tv  tiie 
i  -  ■  of  the  ;k'>. 

- 
i 

I   lie*  hum's. 


128  TEMORA:  AN  EPIC   POEM.  Bnnh  II. 

I  behold  it  dark  in  the  rock,  through  the  thin  folds  of 
mill.  There,  perhaps,  Cuchullin  fits,  on  the  b'aft 
which  bends  its  trees.  Pleafant  is  the  fong  of  the 
morning  from  the  bard  of  Erin  ! 

"  The  waves  crowd  away  for  fear :  they  hear  the 
found  of  thy  coming  forth,  O  fun  !  Terrible  is  thy 
beauty,  fon  of  heaven,  when  death  is  folded  in  thy 
locks  ;  when  thou  rolleft  thy  vapours  before  thee,  over 
the  hlafled  hofl.  But  pleafant  is  thy  beam  to  the  hunt- 
er, fitting  by  the  rock  in  a  florm,  when  thou  lookefl 
from  thy  parted  cloud,  and  brighteneft  his  dewy  locks  ; 
he  looks  down  on  the  flreamy  vale,  and  beholds  the 
defcent  of  roes.  How  long  malt  thou  rife  on  war,  and 
roll,  a  bloody  fiiield,  through  heaven?  I  fee  the  deaths 
of  heroes  dark-wandering  over  thy  face  !" 

"  Why  wander  the  words  of  CarrH  ?  Does  the  fon 
of  heaven  mourn  ?  lie  is  unflained  in  his  courfe,  ever 
rejoicing  in  his  fire.  Roll  on,  thou  carelefs  light ; 
thou  too,  perhaps,  muft  fall.  Thy  dun  robe  ||  may 
feize  thee,  ftruggling,  in  thy  fky. 

"  Pleafant  is  the  voice  of  the  fong,  O  Carril,  to  Of- 
fian's  foul  !  It  is  like  the  fhower  of  the  morning,  when 
it  comes  through  the  ruffling  vale,  on  which  the  fun 
looks  through  miff,  jufl  riling  from  his  rocks.  But  this 
is  no  time,  O  bard !  to  lit  down,  at  the  ftrife  of  fong.  Fin- 
gal  is  in  arms  on  the  vale.  Thou  feeft  the  flaming  fhicld 
of  the  king.  His  face  darkens  between  his  locks.  He  be- 
holds the  wide  rolling  of  Erin. 

"  Does  not  Cam  I  behold  that  tomb,  befide  the  roar- 
ing ftream  ?  Three  ftones  lift  their  gray  heads,  be- 
neath a  bending  oak.  A  king  is  lowly  laid  :  give  thou 
his  foul  to  the  wind.  He  is  the  brother  of  Cathmor  ! 
Open  his  airy  hall !  Let  thy  fong  be  a  ftream  of  joy  to 
Cairbar's  darkened  ghoft." 

!J  Ey  the  dun  robe  of  the  fun,  is  probaMy  meant  an  eclipfe. 


T  E  M  O  R  A: 


AN 


EPIC   POEM. 


THE   ARGUMENT. 


ItWhtng  coming  on.  T      •  \    ■"    -      "  ec  htoI-Hpe 

,y. .-.  •<:;•• 

O         .                ■•!■:•'.■•            ■•.,:; 

n      .           .  ■             neceffil 

The  k  •                                              k  ofCormui 

battle.     The  bare:  >  :  "..-•    ■    .•           •  -,.     The  gene 

other  chi-i'- -'f  lefTi-  r.i. it.     o-'  the   .'he- ha-id. 

lrifii  army  [for  Cathmor,  after  the  example  of  I 

■in.-..  I     h! 

tie  ■  lights  cpilla  :'\ :  ;    kill-  Cmr.al,  chief  of  Dun 

Gaul  hbnfelf.    Gaul, 4a  the  mean  time,  bclir:  « 

valour.     Night  comes  or.'.      l'he  h    n. 

are  particular:-  cele:i--:cd.     TL.-chc 

nai.     The  eolfode  of  Conn  .1  ami  D  :'                   : 

ther  light  on  the  ancient  h.:< 

tomb  of  Connal.    The  a:tion  of  this  book  takes  i 

jp  the  fee 

ptning  of  tue  poem. 

BOOK  III. 

"TXTho  is  that,  at  blue-ftreaming  Lnbar;  by  the  bend- 
*  *  ing  hill  of  the  roes  ?  Tall,  he  leans  on  an  oak 
torn  from  high,  by  nightly  winds.  Who  but  Comhars 
fon,  brightening  in  the  laft  of  his  fields  ?  His  gray  hair 
is  on  the  breeze:  he  half  uttflieathes  the  fword  of  Lu- 
no.  His  eyes  are  Turned  to  Moi-lena,  to  the  dark  rol- 
ling of  foes.  Doft  thou  hear  the  voice  of  the  king  ?  It 
is  like  the  burfting  of  aftvearn,  in  the  defert,  v.-V^n  it 
comes  between  its  echoing  rocks,  to  the  Mailed  field 
of  the  fun. 

"  Wide-fkirted  comes  down  the  foe  !  Sons  of  woody 
Morven,  arile.  P>e  ye  like  '.he  rocks  of  my  land,  on 
whole  brown  fides;  pf  waters-.     A  beafti 

of  joy  comes  on  my  foul  5  I  fee  them  mighty  before 
me.     It  is  when  the  ■■  te,that  rhe  fighs  of  Fiu- 

gal   are  heard;   left   death  mould,  come,  without  re- 
fldwn,  and   darknefs  dwell  on  his  tenth.     Who  m:;*I 
lead  the  war,  again  ft  the  lioft  of  Aiutcma  ?  It  is  on'v 
Vol.  II.  M 


1 3 o  t':mo r a  :  Bool  JIT, 

with  dannger  grows,  that  ray  fwbrd  fhall  fhine.  Such 
was  the  cuftora,  hcv:tuibre,  ef  Tpenmon  the  ruler  of 
winds :  and  thud  defeended  to  battle  the  blue-fliielded 
Trathal." 

The  chv^s  bend  towards  the  kin?:  each  darkly 
fseras  te  claim  the  war.  They  te]U>-by  halves,  their 
:  and  turn  their  eyes  on  Erin.  But  far 
b-  -  e  the  red  the  fon  of  Morni  -flood  :  filent  he  Hood, 
for  who  had  not  heard  of  the  battles  of  Gaul  ?  They 
rofe  Wilkin  his  liand,  in  fecret,    ieized  the 

fwordl     The  fwbfd '•<  bn  light  from  Strumon, 

when  the  firength  of  Morni  failed  7. 

\  >:  ib-  v  ;\r  itood  the  ion  of  Clatho  |j  in  the  wan- 
dering of  his  locks*  Thrice  he  raifed  his  eye's  to  Fin- 
gal:  his  voice  tin  ice  failed  him,  as  he  lpcke.  Fillan 
could  not  boafl  of  battles  ;  at  once  he  ftrode  away. 
Bent  over  a  diflartt  ftream  he  ftood  :  the  tear  hung  in 
his  eye.  lie  ftruck,  at  un:co,  the:  tiiiuie's  head,  with- 
his  inverted  fpear. 


y  of  Oaul,  in 
on,  mention, 
tht  (word  of 


p  in  fhades;    hear  me 

of  my  ftreams.    Deep- 

c  wave  over  the  grafs? 

.  ■■  ;   Pourefl  thou  the 
am,  fatherof  Gaul ; 

'■••  their  heads  on  the 


:  ■  1  ■..  defeend  from  their 
leam  which  thuu  hidefl  in  thy  nifht. 


• 


Booh  111.  AN'  EPIC  POEM.  Ill 

Nor  is  he  unfeen  of  Fingah  Sidelong  lie  beheld  his 
Ion.  He  beheld  him,  with  burfiing  joy  ;  and  turned, 
amidft  his  crowded  {bill.  In  filence  turned  the  king 
towards  Mora  of  woods.  He  hid  the  big  tear  with 
his  locks.     At  length  his  voice  is  heard. 

"  Firft  of  the  fens  oi  Morni ;  thou  rock  that  defieft 
the  ftorm  !  Lead  thou  my  battie,  for  the  race  of  low- 
laid  Cormac.  No  boy's  jfta^ff  is  thy  (pear :  no  harm- 
lefs  beam  of  light  thy  Avord.  Son  of  Morni  of  ftejeds, 
behold  the  foe;  dcflroy.  Fillan,  obferve  the  chief: 
he  is  not  cairn  in  Ilrife:  nor  burns  he,  heedlefs,  in  bat- 
tle; my  fon,  obferve  the  king.  He  is  ftrong  as  Lubar's 
ftream,  but  never  foams  and  roars.  High  on  cloudy 
Mora,  Fingal  fhr.il  behold  the  wor.  Stand,  Ofiiap  f, 
near  thy  father,  by  the  falling  ftream.  Raife  the  voice, 
O  bards  !  Morven.  move  btneath  the  found.  It  is  my 
latter  field  ;  clothe  :t  over  wi^h  light.1' 

As  the  Hidden  riling  of  winds  ;  or  difiant  rolling  of 
troubled feas,  when  Some  dark  ghoft,  in  wrath,  heaves 
the  billows  over  an  ifie,  the  feat  of  mill,  on  the  deep, 
for  many  dark -brown  years:  fo  terrible  is  the  found 
of  the  hoft,  wide-moving  over  the  field.  Gaul  is  t  til 
before  them  :  the  ftreams  glitter  within  his  ftrides. 
The  bards  railed  the  fong  by  his  fide ;  he  ftruck  his 
fhield  between.  On  the  fkirts  of  the  blaft,  the  tun  :ful 
voices  rofe. 

"On  Crona,"faid  the  bards,  "there  burjfls  a  ftream  by 
night.  It  1  wells,  in  its  owm  darlc  courfe,  till  morning's 
early  beam.  Then  comes  it  white  from  the  hill,  with 
the  rocks  and  their  hundred  groves.  Far  be  my  fteps 
from  Crona:  Death  is  tumbling  there.  Be  ye  a  ftream 
from  Mora,  fons  of  cloudy  Morven." 

"  Who  rifes,  from  his  car,  on  Clutha  ?  Tie  hills  are 
troubled  before  the  king  !  The  dark  woods  echo  round, 
and  lighten  at  his  fteel.  See  him,  amidll  the  foe,  like 
M  z 

of  Lnra.     Fillan  is  often   cMled   the  fon  of  Clatho,  to  diftiiifuifh  him  from  thofe 
fons  which  Pingal  had  by  Rus-crana 
.tUHin  being  *Mt  to  viurven  Mir,  the  body  of  Qfcar,  Ofifcn  attends  his  fetlier, 

in  quality  of  thict  bard.  * 


1^2  TEMORA:  Book  HI. 

polgach's-f  fpcrtful  ghoft ;  when  he  featters  the 
clouds,  and  rides  the  eddying  wings  !  It  is  Morni  ||  of 
the  bounding  fteecls  !  Be  like  thy  father,  Gaul !" 

"  Sclma  is  c|»e«ed  wide,  Bards  take  the  trembling 
harps.  Ten  5  ouths  carry  the  oak  of  the  feuft.  A  di- 
stant fun -beam  marks  the  hill.  The  dufky  waves  of 
the  blaft  fly  over  the  fields  cf  grafs.  Why  art  thou 
fe  filcnt,  Morvt  n  ?  The  king  returns  with  all  his  fame. 
Did  not  the  battle  roar  ;  yet  peaceful  is  his  brew  ?  It 
roared,  and  Fingal  overcame.  Be  like  thy  father,  FiJlan." 

They  moved  beneath  the  for.g.  High  waved  their 
anns,  as  rufhy  fields,  beneath  autumnal  winds.  On 
Mora  flood  the  king  in  arms,  •  Mift  flies  round  his 
buckler  broad,  as  aloft,  it  hung  on  a  bough,  on  Cor- 
mul's  flaofly  rock.  In  filenoe  I  flood  by  Fingal.  and 
turned  my  eyes  on  CromIa.'s*[  wood:  left  I  fhould  be- 
hold the  heft,  and  rufh  amidft  my  fwelling  foul.  My 
foot  is  forward  on  the  heath.  I  glittered,  tall,  in  fteeh 
like  d:  e  falling  ftream  of  Tronic,  which  nightly  winds 
bind  ever  with  ice.  The  boy  fees  it,  on  high,  gleam- 
ing to  the  early  beam  :  towards  it  he  turns  his  ear,  and 
wonders  why  it  is  fo  filent. 

Nor  bent  over  a  ftream  is  Cathmor,  like  a  youth  in 
a  peaceful  field  :  wide  he  drew  forward  the  war,  a 
dark  and  troubled  wa«,  But  when  he  beheld  Fingal 
or.  Mora,  his  eenerous  pride  arofe.  "  Shall  the  chief 
o£Aths..#g.ht-and  n<  -.'      fieldi  I'olclath,  lead 

my  people  forth.     Thou  art  a  beam  of  fire." 


jfooi  ITT.  AN   E?TC    POT^M.  I35 

Forth  iflhed  the  chief  of  Moma,  like  a  cloud,  the 

robe  of  gholts.  He  drew  his  fword,  a  flame,  from  his 
fide  ;  and  hr.de  the  battle  move.  The  tribes,  like  rid- 
gy  waves,  dark,  pour  their  ftrength  around.  Haughty 
is  his  ftride  before  them:  his  red  eye  rolls  in  wrath. 
He  called  the  chief  of  Dunratho  f ;  and  his  words  were 
heard. 

"  Cormul,  thou  beholdeft  that  path.  It  winds  green 
behind  the  foe.  Place  thy  people  there  ;  left  Moxven 
fhOuld  efcape  from  my  fword.  Bards  of  green-valleyed 
Erin,  let  no  voice  of  yours  arife.  The  fons  ot  Morven 
muft  fall  without  fong  They  are  the  foes  of  Cairbar. 
Hereafter  fhall  the  traveller  meet  their  dark,  thick  mift 
on  Lena,  where  it  wanders,  with  their  ghofts,  beflde 
the  reedv  lake.  Never  fhall  they  rile,  without  fong,  to 
the  dwelling  of  winds  " 

Cormul  darkened,  as  he  went :  behind  him  rufhed 
his  tribe.  They  funk  beyond  the  rock  :  Gaul  'poke  to 
Fillan  of  Morath  ;  a*  his  eye  purfued  the  cpurfe  of  the  • 
dark-eyed  king  of  Dunratho.  "  Thou  beholdeft  tile 
fteps  of  Cormul ;  let  thine  arm  be  ftrong.  When  he  is 
low,  fon  of  Fingal,  remember  Gaul  in  war.  Here  I 
fall  forward  into  battle,  amidft  the  ridge  of  (hields." 

The  fign  of  death  arofe  :  the  dreadful  found  of  Mor- 
ni's  fhield.  Gaul  poured  his  voice  between.  Fingal 
rofe,  high  on  Mora.  He  faw  them,  from  wing  to 
wing,  bending  in  the  ftrife.  Gleaming,  on  his  own 
dark  hill,  the  firengtB  of  Atha  flood.  They  were  like 
two  fpirits  of  heaven,  {landing  each  on  his  gloomy 
cloud;  when  they  pour  abroad  the  winds,  and  lift  the 
roaring  feas.  The  blue-tumbling  of  waves  is  •"  'ore 
them,  marked  with  the  paths  of  whales.  Themfelves 
are  calm  and  bright  ;  and  ihe  gale  lifts  their  locks  of 
mift. 

M  5 

t  Dro-ratho,  f  ahill -nth  :(  :.-:>, oil,  n>lue  eve.'     I 

:■,  \-..:UU:tl  llu-   air.  v   of  the  £al 
ThtS  f|»ccch,fi:t-uc::  •  :,;..-.!iCl. 

e>ni 

.  :i  :  \v..'c    'uricl 
without  the  •  ,  .  '    ;  wlii 


i;4  v  TEMORA:  Bool  111. 

What  beam  of  ligltt  baflgs,  high  in  air?  It  is  Mor- 
al's dreadful  fw  r!*-d.  Death  is  ilrewed  on  thy  paths, 
O  Gaul ;  thou  fold  tit  them  together  in  thy  rage, 
Like  a  voting  oak  fails  Tur  iathon  f,  with  his  blanch- 
es rov nd  him.-  His  high-holbmed  fpoufe  firetches  her 
white  arms,  in  dreams,  to  the  returning  king,  as  flie 
flceps  by  gurgling  Moruth,  in  her  disordered  locks.  It 
is  his  ghoft,  Oichorr.a;  the  chief  is  lowly  laid.  Heark- 
en not  to  the  winds  for  Tur-lathon's  echoing  fliield. 
It  is  pierced,  by  bis  greamg,  and  its  'bund  is  pail  away. 
Not  peaceful  is  the  hat  id  of  Foldath  :  he  winds  his 
in  blood,  Covnal  met  him  in  fight  ;  they  mix- 
ed the>r  clanging  flee!.  Why  ihould  mine  eyes  behold 
them  !  Cui.nal,  thy  locks  are  gray.  Thou  wert  the 
friend  of  fttfangersj  at  the  mofs  covered  rock  of  Dun-lo- 
ra.  When  the  fkies  we/e  rolled  together  ;  then  thy 
ft  all  \.  as  fpread.  The  ltrangcr  heard  the  winds  with- 
out :  and  rejoiced  at  thy  burning  oak.  Why,  fon  of 
Dutft*caT©nv  art  thou  Uik  hi  blood!  'j'he  hkfted  tree 
bends  J  o^  s  thee:  thy  fhlchi  lies  broken  near.  Thy  blood 
Hii     s'wti   tl      ftream  ;  thou  breaker  of  the  fhitids  ! 

1  took  tl  e  ipear,  in  my  wrath;  but  G,a»l  r-uffejed  for- 
ward on  the  fee.     The  feeble  pais  by  his,  k k  ;   his  rage 
is  tui  \\^C\  on  Mama's  chief.     Nov/  they  hr.u  railed  their 
.,.. .  tfeen  an   arrow  Gain©.     It  pierced 

ibe  hand  of  Gaul;  his  heel  fell  fonndsag  to  eaith. 
Young  Fiilau  c&rwli,  with  Corn  >i!k  in! -Id,  audi  -etch- 
t-dit  iarge  before  the  king.  IV'dath  feat  his  fhout  a- 
br»  ad,  and  kindled  all  the  field:  as  a  hlaft  that  lifts 
the  i  read- winged  flame?  over  Lumen's  *[  echoing 
groves. 

"  Son  of  blu.e-eyed  Clatho,"  fafd  Gaul,  "thou  art  a 
feeaoa  kom  heaven;  that  coming  on  the  troubled  deep, 


:   F;!1an  harf  been  ii!fpatche:l  h 
5   Ma  h  to  ie  in  ambufh  behind  the  Caledonian 
uKiuot  he  tup 


Booh  TIT.  AN  EPIC  POENf.  T.^ 

binjds  up  tfie  tempeft's  wing.     Coram!  is  fallen  before 

thee-.  Early  art  thou  in  the  fame  of  thy  fathers.  Rufh 
not  too  far,  my  hero,  I  cannot  lift  the  fpear  to  aid.  I 
ftand  harmlefs  in  battle :  but  my  voice  mall  be  poured 
abroad.  The  ions  of  Morven  /hall  hear,  and  remem- 
ber my  former  deeds." 

His  terrible  voice  rofe  on  the  wind,  the  hoft  bend  for- 
ward in  the  fight.  Often  had  they  heard  him,  at  Stru- 
mon,  \?%eJ\  he  called  them  to  the  chafe  of  the  hinds.—** 
Jftimfelf  ftood  tall,  amiuft  the  war,  as  an  oak  in  the 
fkirts  of  a  ftorm,  which  now  is  clothed,  on  high,  in 
Ittift  :  then  ihows  its  broad,  waving  head  ;  the  muling 
hunter  lifts  his  eye  from  his  own  rulhy  field. 

My  ioul  purfues  thee,  O  Fillan,  through  the  path  of 
thy  fame.  Thou  rolled!!  the  foe  before  thee.  Now 
Foldath,  perhaps  would  fly  ;  but  night  came  down 
with  its  clouds;  and  Cathmor's  horn  was  heard.  The 
fui.s  of  Morven  heard  the  voice  of  Fingal,  from  Mo- 
ra's gathered  mill.  The  bards  poured  their  fong,  like 
dew,  on  the  returning  \i\\\ 

"  Who  comes  from  Strumon,"  they  faid,  "  amidfther 
wandering  locks  ?  She  is  mournful  in  her  fteps,  and 
lifts  her  blue  eyes  towards  Erin.  Why  art  thou  fad, 
Evir-chomaf  ?  Who  is  like  thy  chief  in  renown  ?  He 
defended  dreadful  to  battle  ;  he  returns,  like  a  light 
from  a  cloud.  He  lifted  the  fword  in  wrath:  they 
ferunk  before  blue-fhielded  Gaul ! 

"  Jay,  like  the  ruftling  gale,  comes  on  the  foul  of 
the  king,  lie  remembers  the  battles  of  old  ;  the  days, 
wherein  his  fathers  fought.  The  days  of  old  return 
en  Fingal's  mind,  as  he  beholds  the  renown  of  his  fon. 
As  the  Km  rejoices,  from  his  clou.',  over  the  tree  his 
beams  have  raifedj  as  it  fhakes  its  lonely  head  on  the 
heath  ;   fo  joyful  is  the  king  over  FiHan* 

"As  the  rolling  of  thunder  on  hills,  when  Lara's 
fields  are  ftill  and  dark,  fuch  are  the  Heps  of  Morven 
pleafant  and  dreadful  to  the  ear.     They  return  with 


136  temohA:  Bnoi  7TL 

their  found,  like  eagles  to  their  dark -browed  rock,  after 
ihe  prey  is  torn  on  the  field,  the  dun  fons  of  the  bound- 
ing hind.  Your  fathers  rejoice  from  their  clouds,  fons 
of  ftreamy  Cona." 

Such  was  the  nightly  voice  of  hards,  on  Mora  of  the 
hinds.  A  flame  rofe,  from  an  hundred  oaks,  which 
winds  had  torn  from  Cormul's  fteep.  The  feaft  is 
lpread  in  the  midft :  around  fat  the  gleaming  chiefs. 
Fingal  is  there  in  his  flrength  ;  the  eagle-wing  f  of  his 
helmet  founds  :  the  ruffling  blafts  of  the  weft,  unequal 
rufhed  through  night.  Long  looked  the  king  in  filence 
round  :  at  length  his  words  were  heard. 

"  My  foul 'feels  a  want  in  our  joy.  I  beheld  a 
hreach  among  my  friends.  The  head  of  one  tree  is  low: 
the  fqually  wind  pours  in  on.  Selma.  Where  is  the 
chief  of  Dun-lora  ?  Ought  he  to  be  forgot  at  the  feaft  \ 
When  did  he  forget  the  flranger,  in  the  midft  of  his  e- 
choing  hall  ?  Ye  are  filent  in  my  prefenee  !  Connal  is 
then  no  more.  Joy  meet  thee,  O  warrior,  like  a  ftream 
of  light.  Swift  be  the  courfe  to  thy  fadiers,  in  the 
folds  of  the  mountain-winds.  Ofiian,  thy  foul  is  Sre  : 
kindle  the  memory  of  the  king.  Awake  the  battles  of 
Connal,  when  firft  he  ihone  in  war  The  locks  of 
Connal  were  gray  ;  his  days  of  youth  ||  were  mixed 
with  mine.  In  one  day  Duth-caron  firft  ftrung  our 
bows  againft  the  roes  of  Dim-lora." 

"  Many,"  I  faid,  "  are  our  paths  to  battle,  in  green- 
hilled  Inis-fail.  Often  did  our  fails  arife,  over  the 
blue-tumbling  waters  ;  when  y.e  came,  in  other  days, 
to  aid  the  race  of  Conar.  The  ftrife  roared  once  in 
Amccma,  at  the  foam-covered  ftreams  of  Duth-ula  f , 


norc  vaiual  !.  . 


B"l  Uf.  AN   EPIC  POEM.  1-7 

With  Cormac  defcended  to  battle  Duth-caron  from 
cloud v  Morven.  Nor  defcended  Dui.lwaron  along, 
his  Inn  was  by  his  fide,  the  long-haired  youth  of  Ct.-u- 
nal  lifting  the  firft  of  his  fpears.  Thou  didft  command 
them,  O  Fingal,  to  aid  the  king  of  Erin. 

"  kike  the  buriting  ftrength  of  a  ftream,  the  fons  of 
Bolga  rufhed  to  war  :  Cok-ulla  f  was  before  them, 
the  chief  of  blue flreaming  Atha.  The  battle  was  :r.'x- 
ed  on  the  plain,  like  the  meeting  of  two  'ilorv, y  kas, 
Cormac  j|  fhone  in  his  own  ftrife,  bright  as  th e  ;•  .;s 
of  his  fathers.  But,  far  before  the  reit,  Duth<aron 
hewed  down  the  foe.  Nor  fiept  the  arm  of  Connal, 
by  his  father's  fide.  Atha  prevailed  on  the  plain  :  like 
fcattered  miff,  fled  the  people  of  Ullin  1f . 

"  Then  rofe  the  fword  of  Ehith-caron,  and  the  Heel 
of  k-oad-fhkided  Connal.  They  fhaded  their  fly-ng 
friends,  like  two  rocks  with  their  heads  of  pine.  Night 
came  down  on  Duth-i.la  :  filent  ftrode  the  chiefs  over 
the  field.  A  mountain-ftream  roared  acrofs  the  path, 
nor  cculd  Duth-caron  bound  over  its  courfe.  "Why 
hands  my  father  V  laid  Connal,  "  I  hear  the  ruffling 
foe." 

"  Fly,  Connal,"  he  faid  ;  "  thy  father's  ftrength  be- 
gins to  fail.  I  come  wounded  from  battle  ;  here  let 
me  reft  in  night."  "  But  thou  fhalt  not  remain  alone," 

{  Colc-uUa,  '  firm  look  in  reMinefs  ;>  he  wis  the  brother  of  Borbar-duthul,  the 
father  nl  Cajrbar  una.  C.ahnvr,  v.- ho,  after  the  deut&  of  Cormac  the  fofl  of  Artho, 
fiicce'Oivcl)  mounted  ih    Ir-.ih  throne. 

|| Cormac,  the  f..;,  ofConar,the  (econd  kiiig  of  Ireland,  of  the  race  of  the  Ca- 
rei!onian<.  '.  hh  inl'iirrtcUon  of  the  lirbulp  h  repined  lo\.  arda  the  litter  end  of 
thclong  rci-M.  <  i  c  .rn  a.   1 Tor.,  i- -> .  -r-i  •.    -!.■   .    ..:..'.,    c  n  .-.  it  ap pp^rs,  that  he  ne- 

feveval  at  ten.pt  s  t..   ...  ;      -,  u..-    .■  ■_>..■.   •   .-       •.  r,..    ■  •  C..    u    I    fore  they  effect. 

clent  accounts  concerning  it,  fe  ...  to  :..i  •.  _■-..:  ...  ^  ■  ;  ..■:..'  1  by  domeitie 
commotions,  that  it  is  difficult     >  lay,  whether  it  e<    r  wus,  for  any  length  i      ime, 

ts  own  king     On    of  I       :  petti  .-   icesaflumt  .-  of 

king  of  Ireland,  and,  on  account  ofh  ;  fufieti   i  I   r..,  or  i."   ._•        .  ;  ^biic  dan- 
.  knowledged  by  the   reft  as  fuch;  but   the  fucceffion,  in  01  iaf-;.er  to 
•      ,    .  oi  .;;.prii      •  ha\c  been  efta'nl  !hcd.    li  »"^  the  di  .^liui,  amoi.gft  t.-.^rn- 

frofli  the  had  conttitution  of  their  government,  that.at  lull,  .object- 
ed the  irifh  to  a  foreign  yoke. 

H  The  inhabitant,  -f  IT.in  or  Uliter,  who  were  of  the  race  of  the  Calcdm....ns, 
feeni,  aior.e,  So  have  been  the  firm  l.ici.ds  to  the  fijeceftion  in  the  family  ofCo- 
nar.  The  l"iib.>!g  v.j.c  •  nly  i\ :'.> .jut  to  them  by  tonlUaint,  and  embraced  cve*J 
Opportunity  Ui  lluow  u*t  their  soke. 


138  TEMORA  :  Book  ITT, 

&id  Connal's  burfting  figh.  *<  My  fhield  is  an  eagle's 
wing  to  cover  the  king  of  Dun-lora."  He  bends  dark 
above  the  chief:  the  mighty  Duth-caron  dies. 

"  Day  rofe,  and  night  returned.  No  lonely  bard  ap- 
peared, deep-mufing  on  the  heath  :  and  could  Connal 
leave  the  tomb  of  his  father,  till  he  fuould  receive  his 
fame  ?  He  bent  the  bow  againlt  the  roes  of  Duth-ula  ; 
he  fpread  the  lonely  feaft.  Seven  nights  he  laid  his 
head  on  the  tcmb,  and  faw  his  father  in  his  dreams.. 
He  faw  him  rolled  dark,  in  a  blaft,  like  the  vapour  of 
reedy  Lego. — At  length,  the  fteps  of  Colgan  f  rarne, 
the  bard  of  high  Temora.  Duth-caron  received  his 
fame,  and  brightened,  as  he  rofe  on  the  wind." 

"  Pleafant  to  the  ear,"  faid  Fingal,  "  is  the  praife  of 
the  kings  of  men  ;  when  their  bows  are  ftrong  in  bat- 
tle ;  when  they  foften  at  the  fight  of  the  fad.  Thus 
Jet  my  name  be  renowned,  when  bards  fliall  lighten  my 
riling  foul.  Carril,  (on  of  Kinfena  ;  take  the  bards 
and  raife  a  tomb.     To  night  let  Connal  dwell,  within 

t  Colgan,  the  foil  ofCathmu!,  was  the  principal  Lard  of  Cormac  Mac-Conar, 
kin?  of  Ireland.  Parr  of  ap  old  poem,  or*  t ,  1  c  love;  of  Kintal  a:id  Ros-uana,  is 
ftillpreferved,  and  ••;..;•;  under  the  iinii.e  ■•)  -..V:,  O  '.gn.  ;  !ui  «:iether  i:  i,..t  h.s 
lomp.uition,  or  the  production  oi  a  later  age,  1  mail  not  pretend  0  d  er- 
mine     Be  Liiat  a,  it   will.it  appears,  :n  .:i  the    ■'■:  .'•-•!•;  nhr:oes  «  -1. •.,  r  .        u    s 

tr inflation  ot  it  before  ::  e  rea.ier.  V.'ha'  remains  nl  t.ie  poem  1,  a  diali.;;ue  tn  a 
lyric  meai'nre,  tvawi:  Kini-  >'  and  R..,-.  ran.,,  tb:  i'.uji-lCT  1.1  Cormac.  ->he  be- 
gins  with  a  foliloquy,  which  1  -overheard  by  Fingal. 

Ros-crana.— "By  ni^ht,  came  a  dream  to  Ro.,-crana!  I  feel  my  beating  foul. 
No  •  i.'iuii  of  the  forms  of  the  dead,  came  to  the  blue  eye;  of  ill  in.  But,  r;ln,g 
from  the  wave  of  trie  north,  I  beheld  bin.  b  ight  ir.  his  locks,  i  b.he'.d  the  .'"on 
of  the  king.  Mv  beating  foul  is  high.  1  laid  my  head  dov/n  in  night;  again 
afc:nded  the  form.    Why   delayelt   thou  thy    coming,  young   rider  of  itreamy 

But,  there,  far-dittant,  he  comes;  where  feas  roll  their  green  ridges  in  mill  ! 

Vi'ngi!  -Ihwaj  tbc  lofYvoicc  <;:'  Moi-lena'''  the  pleafant  breeze  of  the  valley  of 


Bnol  TIT.  AN   EPIC  POEM.  f$f 

his  narrow  houfe  :  let  not  the  foul  of  the  valiant  wan- 
der on  the  winds.  Faint  glimmers  the  moon  on  Moi- 
lena,  through  the  broad-headi  d  groves  of  the  hill;  raifc' 
ftones,  beneath  its  Beams;  to  all  the  fallen  in  war. 
Though  no  chiefs  were  they,  yet  their  hands  were 
ftrong  in  fight.  They  wer-  my  rock  in  danger :  the 
mountain  from  which  I  fpreadmy  eagle:wings.  Thence 
am  1  renowned  :  Carril  forget  not  the  low." 

Loud,  at  once,  from  the  hundred  bards,  rofe  the  fong 
of  the  tomb.  Carril  ftrode  before  them  ;  they  are  the 
murmur  of  ftream's  behind  him.  Silence  dwells  in  the 
vales  of  Moi4ena,  where  eacfi,  with  its  own  dark 
ftream,  i-  v  hiding  between  the  hiils.  I  heard  the  voice 
of  the  bards*  lefiening,  as  they  moved  along.  I  lean- 
:  ed  forward  from  my  fhield ;  and  felt'  the  kindling  of 
my  fouh  Half-formed,  the  words  of  my  fong,  burft 
forth  upon  the  wind.  So  hears  a  tree,  on  the  vale,  the 
voice  of  fpring  around:  it  pours  its  green  leaves  to  the 
fun,  raid  makes  its  lonely  head.  The  hum  of  the  moun- 
tain bee  is  near  it ;  the  hunter  fees  it,  with  joy,  from. 
the  Wafted  heath. 

Young  Fillari,  at  a  diftance  flood.  Kis  helmet  lay 
glittering  on  the  ground!  His  dark  hair  is  loofe  to  the 
blaft:  a  beam  of  light  is  Clatfio's  fon.  He  heard  the 
words  of  the  king  with  joy  ;  and  leaned  forward  on  his 
jfjpear. 

"  My  fen,"  faid  car-borne  Fingaf;  "  I  law  thy  deeds, 
and  my  foul  was  glad.  The  fame  of  cur  fathers,  I 
faid,  Durits  from  its  gathered  cloud.  Thou  art  brave, 
fon  of  Clafho  ;  but  headlong  in  the  ftrife.  So  did  not 
advance,  though  he  never  feared  a  foe.  Let 
thv  people  be  a  ridge  behind ;  they  are  thy  ftrength  in 
Id.  Then  matt  thou  belong  renowned,  and  be- 
hold the  tombs  of  thy  fathers.  The  memorj  of  the 
pall  ret  firftl  de- 

fended from  ocean  on  the  green  valleyed  ifle.     We 

e  moon  looks 
t  3  m:iti3  near, 
• 


T  E  M  O  R  A: 

AN 

EPIC    POEM. 

THE    ARGUMENT. 


1  ,  who  had    omi  landediri  the 

;the   difference   tefvu-n  hi-  ami  Malthos  ; 
'     -  -.\.-iu'.  r.eari  he  foi.^  of  Funar 

n  a  dream;    :r.i1  obkur>  ly  forcuN  the  iil'ue 
:  king.    He  difcovers  Sul-malla.    Morning 


BOOK  IV. 

"  "D  en  eat  h  +  an  oak,"  faid  the  kins:,  "  I  fat  on  Sel- 
JJ  ma's  flreamy  rock,  when  Connal  rofe,  from  the 
fea,  with  the  broken  fpear  of  Duth-caron.  Far  dlftant 
ftood  the  youth,  and  turned  away  his  eye6~;  for  he  re- 
membered the  fteps  of  his  father,  on  his  own  green  bills. 
I  darkened  in  my  place :  dufky  thoughts  rolled  over 
my  foul.  The  kings  of  Erin  role  before  me.  I  half- 
unfheathed  my  fword.  Slowly  approached  the  chiefs; 
they  lifted  up  their  iilent  eyes.  Like  a  ridge  of  clouds, 
they  wait  for  the  burftlng  forth  of  my  voice :  it  was 
to  them  a  wind  torn  heaven,  to  roll  the  miff  away. 

"  I  bade  my  white  fails  to  rife,  before  the  roar  °* 
Cpna's  wind.  Three  hundred  youths  looked,  fro0* 
their  waves,  on  Fingal's  bcify  fnield.  High  on  the 
mall  it  hung,  and  marked  the  dark-blue  fea.  Bat 
when  the  night  came  down,   I  ftruck,   at  times,  the 


Bosh  IV.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  I4T 

warning  bofs :  I  {truck,  and  looked  on  high,  for  fiery- 
haired  Ul-erin  f.  Nor  wanting  was  the  ftar  of  heaven  a 
It  travelled  red  between  the  clouds:  I  purfued  the  love- 
ly beam,  on  the  faint-gleaming  deep.  With  morning,* 
Erin  rofe  in  milt.  We  came  into  the  bay  of  Moi-lena,- 
where  its  blue  waters  tumi)led,  in  the  bofom  of  echo- 
ing woods.  Here  Cormac,  in  his  fecret  hall,  avoided 
the  ftrength  of  Colc-ulla.  Nor  he  alone  avoids  the  foes 
the  blue  eye  of  Ros-crana  is  there:  Ros-crana  ,|,  white- 
handed  maid,  the  daughter  of  the  king. 

"  Gray,  on  his  pointlefs  fpeaf,  came  forth  the  aged 
Heps  of  Cormac.  He  faiiled,  from  his  waving  locks, 
but  grief  was  in  his  foul.  He  few  us  lew  before  him, 
and  his  figh  arofe.  "  I  fee  the  arms  of  Trenmor,"  he 
faid  ;  "  and  thefe  are  the  fteps  of  the  king  !  Fungal ! 
thou  art  a  beam  of  light  to  Cormac's  darkened  foul. 
Early  is  thy  fame,  my  ion  :  but  itrong  are  the  foes  of 
Erin.  They  are  like  the  roar  of  ftreams  in  the  land,' 
fon  of  car-borne  Comhal." 

*'  Yet  they  may  be  rolled  ^  away,"  I  faid,  in  my  rif- 
lng  foul.  "  We  are  not  of  the  race  of  the  feeble,  king 
of  blue-fhielded  hofts.  Why  mould  fear  come  amongft 
us,  like  a  ghoft  of  night  ?  The  foiil  of  the  valiant 
grows,  as  foes  increafe  in  the  field.  Roll  no  darkneis, 
king  of  Erin,  on  the  young  in  war." 

"  The  burfiing  tears  of  the  king  came  down.  He 
feized  my  hand  in  filence.  "  Race  o(  the  daring  Tren- 
mor, I  roll  no  cloud  before  thee.  Thouburneft  in  the 
fire  of  thy  lathers.  I  behold  thy  fame.  It  marks  thy* 
cou'-fe  in  battle?,  like  a  ftream  of  light.     But  wait  the 

Vol.  II.  N 

+  Ul-erin,  « theguida  in  !rehn<V  ?.  p-=r  knevn  by  that  mm'  in  >h°  rinvs  of  Fin, 
gal,  and  very  unfiil  to  tiiei'e  u..  r  C^ltdo- 

I     , 

•  tfieriflhsfun;'  fhc  «•?.•.  the  mother  of  O.Tian.    The' 

.   ,  ...  vever, 

i?.r-  ....  .  '.-.   .-'  ■    :  .\ .:    :  .1. 

•i  .-ut.uiicd;  lor  they  evident- 
,  the  marl 
*  C'.r-:  •.       ..  ■  i.-i  that  his  foes  irere  "  like  the  r.i..r  of  ftreams,"  and  Fingaf 
■ 

pidity,v       .......      pj .- 


142.  TEMORA:  Booh  IF. 

ccm'ng  of  Cairbar  + :  my  fort  muft  join  thy  fword.  He 
calls  the  fens  of  Ullin,  from  all  their  diftant  ftreams." 

tt  \ye  came  to  the  hall  of  the  king,  where  it  rofe  in 
the  mid  ft  of  rocks  :  rocks,  on  whofe  dark  fides,  were 
the  marks  of  ftreams  of  old.  Broad  oaks  bend  around 
with  their  mofs  :  the  thick  birch  waves  its  sfreen  head. 
Kalf-hid,  in  her  fhady  grove.  Ros-crana  raited  the  fong. 
Her  white  hands  rofe  on  the  harp.  I  beheld  her  blue- 
rolling  eyes.  She  was  like  a  fpirit  [I  of  heaven  half- 
folded  in  the  fkirt  of  a  cloud. 

"  Three  days  we  feafttd  at  Moi-lc  na ;  fhe  rofe 
bright  amidft  my  troubled  feed.  Cormac  beheld  me 
dark.  He  gave  the  white-bofomed  maid.  She  came 
with  bending  eye,  amidft  the  wandering  of  her  heavy 
locks.  She  came.  Straight  the  battle  roared.  Colc- 
ulla  ruffied  ;  I  feized  my  ipear.  My  fword  rofe,  with 
pay  people,  rgair.fi  the  ridgy  foe.  Alnecmaiied.  Colc- 
ulla  fell.     Fingal  returned  with  fame. 

"  He  is  renowned,  O  Fillan,  who  fights,  in  the 
flrergvh  of  hie  people.  The  bard  purines  his  fteps, 
thi ■(  i.gh  the  land  of  the  foe.     But  he  who  lights  alone, 

i  Cairbar,  the  fori  of  Cormae,  was  afterwards  king  of  Ireland.  His  reipn  was 
fbert.     Hcwr.s  lucteedtii  by  Li'    ion  Artho,  the  lather  of  thai  Coni.ac  who  w:*« 


t.<ii<.<    'I    \     <■  '.       -  v  h  -  "  .  ■  i-  .elv.-s, 

faoi     ;'  ■        ,  ■  ■     ■  •  the  cods. 

'Ihcdtki   Ui  U.h  J.rct-,  Ui  :   i  :.;.'■■■.  ^     ;.      • 

The:-  compare  them  to  the  '  rain-bow  on  lire:  n,;. ;   or  ihe  pi'hlir.u'oi  lun-ueams  on 
the  hi  11- . 

A  chief  who  liver!  three  cei.n.ni  M'o.icmn.ire  frc  ni  the  •■■■  -hi  ,  u.  .Hi  'lo.il  that 
h::  wilt  or  ,po1:,r  v«--.dead.  "J  h:  haid  inti.  tIom  :.  him  i|,crkir.(r  the  I..U.  wir« 
f. .-.'.-.J.  v.  -.w.u)  h.   tame vHhi)  fight  eii  the  pWoe  wheiehc  bad  left  he.,  at  his 

"  M>   fci  1  durk'  i"  in  forrow.     I  behold  not  the  fa.nice  of  my  hall.     Not;. ay  rtojv 


Book  TV.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  I45 

few  are  his  deeds  to  other  times.  He  mines,  to-day  a 
mighty  light.  To-morrow,  he  is  low.  On.-  long  con- 
tains his  fame.  His  name  is  on  one  dark  field.  He  is 
forgot,  but  where  his  tomb  fends  forth  the  tufts  of 
grai's." 

Such  were  the  words  of  Fingal,  on  Mora  of  the  roes. 
Three  bards,  from  the  rock  of  Cormul,  poured  down 
the  pleafant  fong.  Sleep  defcended,  in  die  found,  on 
the  broad-rfcirted  hoft.  Carril  returned,  with  the  bards, 
from  the  tomb  of  Dun-lora's  king.  The  voice  of  morn- 
ing mail  not  come,  to  the  dufky  bed  of  the  hero.  No 
more  fhalt  thou  hear  the  tread  of  roes,  around  thy  nar- 
row houfe. 

As  roll  the  troubled  clouds,  round  a  meteor  of  night, 
when  they  brighten  their  fides,  with  its  light,  along  the 
heaving  fea :  fo  gathered  Erin,  around  the  gleaming 
form  of  Atha's  king.  He,  tall  in  the  midft,  carelefs 
lifts,  at  times,  his  fpear :  as  fwells  or  falls  the  found  of 
Fonar's  diftant  harp.  Nearf  him  leaned,  againil  a 
rock,  Sul-malla  |)  of  blue  eyes,  the  white-bofomed  daugh- 
ter of  Con-mor,  king  of  Inis-huna.  To  his  aid  came 
blue-fhielded  Cathmor,  and  rolled  his  foes  away.  Sul- 
malla  beheld  him  ftately  in  the  hall  of  feafts;  nor  care- 
lefs rolled  the  eyes  of  Cathmor  on  the  long-haired 
maid. 

N  l 

t  In  order  to  iUuftrate  this  paffage,  I  fhall  give,  he-e,  the  biftory  on  which  it  is 
founded,  as  1  have  gathered  it  from  other  poems.  The  aalion  of  rhe  t'irbo'.g  who 
inhabited  the  fouth  of  Ireland,  being  original, y  defended  from  the  Belgse,  who 
poffefted  the  fouth  and  fouth-weit  coart  of  Biitain,  kept  up,  for  many  ages,  an  aim- 
cable  correfpomlence  with  their  mother-country ;  and  fcnt  aid  to  the  Britifh  Bel- 
gae,  when  they  were  preffed  by  the  Romans  or  other  new-comers  from  the  conti- 
nent. Con-mor, king  of  lnis-huna,  'that  part  of  9outtuBritaia  which  is  over  a- 
gainft  the  Irifh  coaft)  t>eing  attacked,  by  what  enemy  is  not  mentioned,  fent  for 
aid  to  Cairbar,  kird  of  Atha,  the  molt  potent  chief  of  '.he  Firboig.  Gairbar  dif- 
patched  hi,  brother  Cathmor  to  the  affiftance  of  Con-mor.  Cathmor,  after  vari- 
ous vicil*itudes  of  fortune,  put  an  end  to  the  war,  by  the  total  defeat  of  the  ene- 
mies of  lnis-huna,  and  returned  in  triumph  to  the  refidenoe  of  Con-mor.  There, 
it  a  fea-;,  Sul-malla,  the  daughter  of  Con-mor,  fell  nefpcrately  in  love  with  Cath- 
mor,  who,  before  her  paffion  was  diulofed,  wa>  recalled  to  Ireland  by  his  brother 
Cairbar,  upon  the  news  of  the  intended  expedition  of  Fingal,  to  re-eltabliih  the 
family  of  Conar  on  the  Irifh  throne  The  u  ind  '.icing  contrary,  Cathmor  remain- 
ed, for  three  days,  in  a  neighbouring  bay,  durii>g  which  time  Sul-malla  difiieifeo 
herfelf,  in  the  habit  of  a  young  warrior,  ;...ul  came  to  offer  him  her  fervice  in  the 
war.    Cathmor  accepted  of  the  propofal,  failed  for  Ireland,  and  arrived  in  Ullter  a 

few  days  before  the  death  of  Cairbar. 
||  Sul-malla,   '  uowly-rolUns  eyes.     Caoo-mor,   «  mild  and  tall.'     Ims-uun»s 

? green  ifland.' 


-144  TEMORA:  Book  TV. 

The  third  day  arofe,  and  Fithil  f  came  from  Erin  of 
the  dreams.  He  told  of  the  lifting  up  of  the  fhield  || 
on  Morven,  and  the  danger  of  red-haired  Cairbar. 
Cathmor  raifed  the  fail  at  Cluba  ;  but  the  winds  were 
in  other  lands.  Three  days  he  remained  on  the  coaft, 
and  turned  his  eyes  on  Con-mor's  hails.  He  remember- 
ed the  daughter  of  ftrangers,  and  his  figh  arofe.  Now 
when  the  winds  awaked  the  wave:  from  the  hill  came 
a  youth  in  arms ;  to  lift  the  fword  with  Cathmor  in 
his  echoing  field.  It  was  the  white-armed  Sul-malla : 
iecret  fhe  dwelt  beneath  her  helmet.  Her  fteps  were 
in  the  path  of  tlaa  king  ;  on  him  her  blue  eyes  rolled 
with  joy,  when  he  lay  by  his  roaring  ftreams.  But 
Cathmor  thought,  that,  on  Lumon,  me  ftill  purfued  the 
roes:  or  fair  on  a  rock,  ftretched  her  white  hand  to  the 
wind;  to  feel  its  courfe  from  Inis-fail  the  green  dwel- 
ling of  her  love.  He  had  promifed  to  return,  with  his 
white-bofomed  fails.  The  maid  is  near  thee,  king  of 
Atha,  leaning  on  her  rock. 

The  tall  forms  of  the  chiefs  flood  around :  all  but 
.dark -browed  Foldath  f .  He  ftood  beneath  a  diftant 
tree,  rolled  into  his  haughty  foul.  His  bufhy  hair  whif- 
tles  in  wind.     At  times,  burfis  the  hum  of  a  fong.    He 


T  Fithil, 

'  an  inferior  bard.'    It  may  either  be  taken  -ncre  for  the  proper  name 

of  a  man,  c 

ir  in  the  literal  fenfe,  as  the  bards  were  the  heralds  and  mefie:igers  0/ 

thofe  times 

.     Cathmor,  it  is  probable.  w3sabfem,  when  the  rebellion  of  hisbro- 

'tnerCaiiba 

r,  and  the  aflamnation  of'Cormac,  king  of   Ireland,  happened.     The 

trad:t:on>, 

which  are  handed  down  with  the  poem,  fay  that  Cathmor  and  his  fol- 

oniy  arrived,   iron,  lnis-huna,  three  days  before  the  death  of  Cairbar, 

which  fuffi< 

iently  clears  Lis  cfaracter  from  any  imputation  of  being  concerned  ia 

the  co.nfpir 

acy  with  his  brother. 

_  ||  T_i:e  cei 

■ernony  which  was  ufed  by  Fingal,  when   he  prepared  for  an  expedi- 

ted, by  Oflian,  in  ore  of  hi;  letter  pi. ems.     A  bard,  at  midnight,  went 

V<  the  Kail, 

where  the  tribes  feaited  upon  folemn  occafionSj  raifed  the  war-Pong, 

and  thrice 

called  the  fpirits  ot  their  aeeeafed  anchors  tnomie,  on  their  clouds; 

where  :,ic  torr-nts  of  the  ncijrhbourir.t.  mountains  were  u>!le.'cd  into  one  liody, 
and  became  large  dream*  or  rivers.  The  lifting  up  of  the  fhield,  was  the  phrafe 
for  be^nning  a  war. 

II  Tae  furly  attitude  of  Foldath  is  a  proper  preamble  to  his  after  behaviour. 
Ch-iiicd  luih't.'ic-  dnappointment  of  the  victory  which  he  promifed  himfc-lf,  he 
icc.m11-  pafi'inatc  and  hi  er-oearing.  The  quarrel  which  fuciecds  between  him 
and  M'tlthos  wa-.,  no  doubt,  introduced  by  the  poet,  to  raife  the  character  ofCath. 
jnor,  whofe  fuper;or  worth  iliincs  forth,  in  hu  manly  manner  of  ending  the  diffe* 
j,-ca.e  bctv  ecu  tiie  chiefs. 


Booh  IV.  Atf  EPIC  POEM.  f4£ 

ftruck  the  tree,  at  length,  in  wrath  ;  and  rufhed  before 
the  king.  Cairn  and  ftately,  to  the  beam  of  the  oak, 
arofe  the  form  of  young  Hidalla.  His  hair  falls  round 
his  blufhing  cheek,  in  wreaths  of  waving  light.  Soft 
was  his  voice  in  Clonra  f,  in  the  valley  of  his  father's  ; 
when  he  touched  the  harp,  in  the  hall,  near  his  roaring 
ftreams. 

"  King  of  Erin,"  faid  the  youth,  "  now  is  the  time 
of  feafts.  Bid  the  voice  of  bards  arife,  and  roil  the 
night  away.  The  foul  returns,  from  fong,  more  ter- 
rible to  war.  Darknefs  fettles  on  Inis-fail:  from  hill 
to  hill  bend  the  fklrted  cloud3.  Far  and  gray,  on  the 
heath,  the  dreadful  ftrides  of  ghofts  are  feen:  the  ghofts 
of  thole  who  fell  bend  forward  to  their  fong.  Bid  thou 
the  harps  to  rife,  and  brighten  the  dead,  on  their  wan- 
dering Wafts." 

"  Be  all  the  dead  forgot,"  faid  Foldath's  burfting 
wrath.  "  Did  not  I  fail  in  the  field,  and  fhall  I  hear 
the  fone:  ?  Yet  was  not  my  courfe  harmlefs  in  batde : 
blood  was  a  ftream  around  my  fteps.  But  the  feeble 
were  behind  me,  and  the  foe  has  efcaped  my  fword. 
In  Clon-ra's  vale  touch  thou  the  harp;  let  Dura  an* 
fwer  to  thy  voice ;  while  fome  maid  looks,  from  the 
wood,  on  thy  long  yellow  locks.  Fly  from  Lubar's 
echoing  plain  ;  it  is  the  field  of  heroes." 

"  King  of  Temora'j,"  Makhos  faid,  "  it  is  thine  to 
lead  in  war.  Thou  art  a  fire  to  our  eyes,  on  the  dark-' 
brown  field.  Like  a  blaft  thou  haft  paft  over  hoftsjr 
and  laid  them  lew  in  blood;  but  who  has  heard  thy 
words  returning  from  the  field?  The  wrathful  delight 
in  death ;  their  remembrance  refis  on  the  wounds  of 
their  ipear.  Strife  is  folded  in  their  thoughts :  their 
words  are  ever  heard.  Thy  courfe,  chief  of  Moma, 
was  like  a  troubled  ftream.  The  dead  were  roiled  on 
Nj 


t  C.ann-rath,  •  winding  field.'  The  to  are  fe'dom  pronounced  audibly  in  the 
O'.l.c  language. 

.   I'&is  -:  a  t<j  luc  bioAeriBff' 

fccaaviour  wf  t^iJith. 


I46  TEMORA  :  Book  IF, 

thy  path:  but  others  alio  lift  the  fpear.  We  were  not 
feeble  behind  thee,  but  the  foe  was  ftrong." 

The  king  beheld  the  rifing  rage,  and  bending  for- 
ward of  either  ehief:  for  half  unlheathed,  they  held 
their  fvords,  and  rolled  their  filent  eyes.  Now  would 
they  have  mixed  in  horrid  fray,  had  not  the  wrath  of 
Cathmor  burned.  He  drew  his  (word :  it  gleamed 
through  night,  to  the  high-naming  oak.  "  Sons  of 
pride,  '  faid  the  king,  "  allay  your  (welling  fouls.  Re- 
tire in  night.  Why  fhould  my  rage  arife  ?  Should  I 
contend  with  both  in  arms  ?  It  is  no  time  for  'ftrife. 
Retire,  ye  clouds  at  my  feaft.  Awake  my  foul  no 
more." 

They  funk  from  the  king  on  either  fide  ;  likef  two 
columns  of  morning  milt,  when  the  fun  rifes,  between 
them,  on  his  glittering  rocks.  Dark  is  their  rolling  on 
either  fide  ,  each  towards  its  reedy  pool. 

Silent  fat  the  chiefs  at  the  feaft.  They  looked,  at 
times,  on  Atha's  king,  where  he  ftrode,  en  his  rock, 
amidft  his  fettling  foul.  The  hoft  lay,  ac  length,  on 
the  field :  fieep  deTcended  on  Moi-lena.  The  voice  of 
Fonar  role  alone,  beneath  his  diftant  tree.  It  rofe  in 
the  praife  of  Cathmor  fori  of  Larthon  ||  of  Lurnon.  But 
Cathmor  did  not  hear  hispraife.  He  lav  at  the  roar  of 
a  ftream.  The  ruftling  breeze  of  night  flew  over  his 
whittling  locks. 

fThe  poet  coi  Id  fcarcely  find,  in  a)l  nature,  a  comwifmi  fn  favourable  as  this 

.      '  P.-ni.rit,  .  r  ;M::.n.i.i-i.--?v  hisiw;'  .■h!ii>.      ',  ill.;;    ill  .11.  v..   tiiis  pafTa^e 


AU  EPIC  POIIVf.  I47 

Cairbar  came  to  his  dreams,  half-feen  from  his  low- 
hung  cloud.  Joy  rofe  darkly  in  his  face  he  had 
heard  the  fong  of  Carril  f.  A  blaft  fuftained  his  dark- 
flrirted  cloud,  which  he  feized  in  the  1  :>f •  ri  of  Bight, 
as  he  role,  with  his  tame,  towards  his  airv  hall  r  .'- 
mixed  with  the  noife  of  the  ftrtam,  he  poured  1  :s  feeble 
■words. 

'*  Jov  met  the  foul  of  Cathmor :  his  voice  was  t<ea-d 
on  Moi-lena.  The  bard  crave  his  fong  to  Cairbar:  'ie 
■travels  on  the  wind.  My  form  is  in  my  father';,  hall, 
like  the  gliding  of  a  terrible  light,  which  winds  .:  :  ■  .1 
the  deiert,  in  a  fiormy  night.  No  bard  fhall  be  want- 
ing at  thy  tomb,  when  thou  art  lowly  laid.  The  ions 
of  fong  love  the  valiant.  CatLmor,  thy  name  is  a  plea- 
iant  gale.  The  mournful  founds  arife  !  On  Lubar's 
field  there  is  a  vuice  !  Louder  flill  ye  fhadowy  ghofts! 
the  dead  were  full  of  fame.  Shriliy  fwells  the  feeble 
found.  The  rougher  blaft  alone  is  heard  !  Ah,  focm  is 
Cathmor  low  I"  Rolled  into  himfelf  he  flew,  wide  on 
thebofom  of  his  blaft.  The  old  oak  felt  his  departure, 
and  fhook  its  whiffling  head.  The  king  fiarted  from 
reft,  and  took  his  deathful  ipear.  He  lifts  his  eyes  a- 
jround.     He  fees  but  darlc-ikirtcd  night. 

"  It  ||  was  the  voice  of  the  king;  but  now  his  form  is 
gone.  Unmarked  is  your  path  in  the  air,  ye  children 
oftheni^ht.  Often, like  a  reflected  beam,  are  yefeen  in 
the  defect  wild  ;  but  ye  retire  in  your  biaits  before  our 
fteps  approach.  Go  then,  ye  feeble  race!  knowledge 
with  you  there  is  none.     Your  joys  ^rc  weak,  and  like 


+  Carril,  the  fon  of  Kinftrna,  by  the  n-Uei-s  of  Offi 
C\  -t    r       -re  tl.. 
0(Tian,tI-.t  . 

fcurt,h<.th  whiih  :in 

ral  fieiv.'s.   !  \>\<  ,r.:    the  i:it"fr  er.il  ••.    h.   i\iz<:<  h  of  \\ 


the  Thn'i- 

placc  v.  ."-.e,;                      ,      •           -  in  unfubtiantial  figure  which  re- 

| 

|j  Ths  fulil  v                               nrty  and  love  of  fame 

red  at  grit  with  the  prediction    ifCair- 

1  '                   .      re 

.  „     .                            ;m  o.-i\ure  length  of 


I48  TEMORA:  BooilV. 

the  dreams  of  our  reft,  or  the  light- winged  thought 
that  flies  acrofs  the  foul.  Shall  Cathmor  ibon  be  low  ? 
Darkly  laid  in  his  narrow  houfe  ?  Where  no  morning 
comes  with  her  half-opened  eves  ?  Away,  thou  fhade  ! 
To  fight  is  mine  !  All  further  thought  away  !  I  rufh 
forth,  on  eagle  wings,  to  feize  my  beam  of  fame.  In 
the  lonely  vale  of  ftrearns,  abides  the  little  ||  foul.  Years 
roll  on,  feafons  return,  but  he  is  ftiil  unknown.  In  a. 
blafl  come?  cloudy  death,  and  lays  his  gray  head  low. 
His  ghoft  is  rolled  on  the  vapour  of  the  fenny  field. 
Its  courfe  is  never  on  hills,  or  molly  vales  of  wind.  So 
fhall  not  Cathmor  depart.  No  boy  in  the  field  was  he, 
who  only  marks  the  bed  of  roes,  upon  the  echoing  hills. 
My  ifluing  forth  was  with  kings,  and  mv  joy  in  dread- 
ful plains :  where  broken  holts  are  rolled  away,  like 
feas  before  the  wind." 

So  fpoke  the  king  of  AInecma,  brightening  in  his 
riling  foul :  valour,  like  a  pleafant  iiame,  is  gleaming 
within  his  breaft.  Stately  is  his  ftride  on  the  heath : 
the  beam  of  eaft  is  poured  around.  He  faw  his  gray 
holt  on  the  field,  wide-fpreading  their  ridges  in  light. 
He  rejoiced,  like  a  fpirit  of  heaven,  whole  fleps  come 
forth  on  his  feas,  when  he  beholds  them  peaceful  round, 
and  all  the  winds  are  laid.  But  ibon  he  awakes  the 
waves,  and  rolls  them  large  to  fome  echoing  coaft. 

On  the  rufhy  bank  of  a  ftream,  flept  the  daughter  of 
Jnis-liuna.    The  helmet  had  fallen  from  her  head.  Her 


u  would  loic  by  ■:w.yt,i\".&  individuals 


Book  IV.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  I49 

dreams  were  in  the  lands  of  her  fathers.  There  morn- 
ing was  on  the  field:  gray  ftreams  leapt  down  from 
the  rocks;  the  breezes,  in  fhadowy  waves,  fly  over  the 
rufhy  fields.  There  is  the  found  that  prepares  for  the 
chafe;  and  the  moving  of  warriors  from  the  hall.  But 
tall  above  the  reft  is  the  hero  of  ftreamy  Atha  :  he  bends 
■his  eye  of  love  on  SuJ-malla,  from  his  ftately  fteps.  She 
turns,  with  pride,  her  face  away,  and  carelefs  bends 
the  bow. 

Such  were  the  dreams  of  the  maid  when  Atha's  war- 
rior came.  He  faw  her  fair  face  before  him,  in  the  midft 
of  her  wandering  locks.  He  knew  the  maid  of  Lumon, 
.What  mould  Catbmor  do  ?  His  figh  arofe:  his  tears 
came  down.  But  ftraight  he  turned  away.  "  This  is 
no  time,  king  of  Atha,  to  wake  thy  fecrct  foul.  The 
•battle  is  rolled  before  thee,  like  a  troubled  itream." 

He  ftruck  that  warning  bofs  f,  wherein  dwelt  the 
voice  of  war.  Erin  role  around  him  like  the  found  of 
eagle-wings.  Sul-malla  ftarted  from  fleep,  in  her  dis- 
ordered locks.  She  feized  the  helmet  from  earth,  and 
trembled  in  her  place.  "  Why  fhould  they  know  in 
Erin  of  the  daughter  of  Inis-huna  ?"  for  fhe  remem- 
bered the  race  of  kings,  and  the  pride  of  her  foul  arofe. 
Her  fteps  are  behind  a  rock,  by  the  blue-winding  ftream[| 
of  a  vale  ;  where  dwelt  the  dark-brown  hmd  ere  yet 
the  war  arofe.  Thither  came  the  voice  of  Cathmor, 
at  times,  to  Sul-malla's  ear.  Her  foul  is  darkly  lad; 
fhe  pours  her  words  on  wind. 

"  The  dreams  of  Inis-huna  departed  :  they  are  rol- 
led away  from  my  foul.  I  hear  not  the  chafe  in  my 
land.  J  am  concealed  in  the  hkirts  of  war.  I  look  forth 
from  my  cloud,  but  no  beam  appears  to  light  ray  path. 
I  behoid  my  warrior  low  ;  for  the  broad  fhieided  king 
is  near  ;  he  that  overcomes  in  danger  ;  Fingal  of  the 
fpears.     Spirit  of  departed  Con-mor,  are  thy  fteps   on 

tin  order  to  underfiand  this  paflage,  it  i'  ndceffary  to  look  to  the  defer:] 'Jul!  of 
Cathmor's  (hield  whii'h  the  ;,o^  has  g.  .tn  us  in  the   levenrh  'nook.     This  fhield 
had  feven  pnnc  .u,;I  L'oif  5,  the  l'oui  il  .u  each  of"  ■■•  hich,  v  hen  lt-iuk  .. ; 
conveyed  a  particular  order  iioin  tjiv  kir.;;  to  hi.-,  tribes     1  ae  found  of  one  of  thein, 
»■,  here,  was  the  Bgnal  for  the  army  to 

J]  This  was  not  the  valley  of  Lona  to  which  oul-malla  afterwards  retired. 


150  TEMORA:  AN  EPIC  POEM.  Book  JV. 

the  bofom  of  winds  ?  Cornell  thou,  at  times,  to  other 
lands,  lather  of  iad  Sui-malla  ?  Thou  doll  come,  tor  I 
have  heard  thy  voice  at  night :  while  yet  I  rofe  on  the 
wave  to  ftreamy  Inis-fail.  The  ghoft  of  fathers,  they 
fav  f,  can  ieize  the  fouls  of  their  race,  while  they  be- 
hold them  lonely  in  the  midf!  of  wo.  Call  me,  my  fa- 
ther, when  the  king  is  low  on  earth ;  for  then  I  fhall 
be  lonely  in  themiclft  of  wo." 

f  Con-mor,  tne  fathc*-  of  Sul-malla,  was  tilled  in  that  war,  from  which  Cafimor 

deihe/ed  Inis-h-UF..     Lormar  hi-,  fori  l'\uce_\Ied  Cim-mor.     It  was  the  opinion  of 

the  loues.  wne.i  a  perfon  was  reduced  to  a  pitch  of  rnifery,  which  could  admit  of 

no  :'.U-  i.-.tlu'.,  ih.it  tilt  -  r.  >'io  of  his  amet'.ors  cubed  hi-,  i'uul  away.    Thi,  fuperna- 

.  :  h    !  called  tie  voice  of  the  dead  ;   and  is  believed  by  the  fuper- 

...    r hi- world     nerhaps,  who  gave  more  univerfal  credit  to 

aL'i'?.ri  .  .       .  :  the  gho'f .  of  the  deceal'ed  to  their  friends,  than  the 

. ■  lianders     Th*s  is  to  b-:  attributed  ao  much,  at  leall,  to  the  fituation 

of  the  co'in   -  v  ih;\   no(Tci.._  ai  to  flint  credulous  difp-  Mrion  \i  I.k  !.  .Ii"iinr;uifhes  an 

,     ,    ■>.  ....-.".    o  tletp  in  the  o.  en  ;or,  a  iiuHt  the  whiitlir..;  of  wiuds.  and 

.  he  g!.  el.     i-:i    .A  tau  fcenea  around  them  was  apt  to  beget 

ii'i     i':i:.i  .fit. >n  of   '■:;:, u.  whuh  .ir.lt  readily   .'tceivus  impieffions  of 

t.ic  ;:>'■-  ■-■'■--  ur'.i  kir.d.    Fal'-ing  alieep  in  tin;,  gloomy  mood,  and 

.i  ■■-.'.. iL  thev  heard  the  Yuicc  of  thedcad.  i  his  voice  of  the 
dead,  hou  e  i  -  ,.....„.  no  more  than  a  thriller  whittle  of  the  winds  in  an 
old  tree,  or  in  Mieu  inks  of  a  neighbouring  rock.  It  is  u.  this  cauie  1  ulcribe  thofe 
n:?nv  ar.ri  imprcb-ibl?  talesct  giivltj,  which  we  meet  with  in  the  highlands:  for 
in  of'her  refpects,  we  do  not  find  that  the  highlanders  are  more  cretluloustSwn  tfes* 
neighbours. 


T  E  M  O  R  A: 


EPIC    POEM. 

THE  ARGUMENT, 
(tffhn.rftcraflvi't  adrtrefs'o  the  h  rji    <^       -  <-c       wstHe  arrangement  nfbotti 

armies  ,m      trt       ■'     o    -hi  rr    r    '  Fillati  : 

but,    tt  ' x         ■    :•  ■:■!  •?,       Jf      :'•■     i,    r-  "  -"  '  dfed  in 

M      uut  linttat  ling  battle,  to  I  IM  amy  of  the 

F  •■..-.  ■•  '  ■;  i'"   !:••:,  ■  ■'     ...   t  ■,  I'cftribed      the  great 

adioas  of  Fillan       It  It    1mm      Bat  when  ITillan  conquers, 

in  one  w'.nc  Foldath  predV.  hard  v,  the  other.  He  wounds  Demiid,  the  fun  of 
D.thne.  and  puts  the  w.inie  wingto  t.ir.ht.  Dermid  deliberates  with  himfelf, 
ana.  at  Ult,  refoives  to  i  nt  a  :iop  to  tae  progrefs  of  Foldat  : ,  by  engaging  him  in 
H'  ■'..  ,.i..'..-.i.  when  the  two  chiefs  were  approaching  t.  wards  one  another, 
Fillnneame  fudden'.y  to  the  relief  of  Dermid;  engaged  Foldath,  and  killed 
him.  The  behavi' nr  of  Ylalthn*  towards  the  f  .Hen  r<  U  .t'.i.  yi!!r-:i  putsthe 
whole  army  ot  the  Kir'-olg  to  flight.  The  book  clofe=  with  an  adiirefslo  Clatho, 
the  mother  of  that  hero. 


T 


BOOK  V. 

"'hou  dweller  between  the  fhields  that  hang  on  high 
in  Offian's  hall !  defcend  from  thy  place,  O  harp, 
and  let  me  hear  thy  voice!  Son  of  Alpin,  ftrike  the 
firing  ;  thou  mull  awake  the  foul  of  the  bard.  The 
murmur  of  Lcra's  f  ftream  has  rolled  the  tale  away. 
I  Hand  in  the  cloud  of  years  :  few  are  its  openings  to- 
wards the  pail,  and  when  the  virion  comes  it  is  but 
dim  and  dark.  I  hear  thee,  hasp  of  Cona  ;  my  foul 
returns,  like  a  breeze,  which  tlie  fan  brings  backio  the 
vale,  where  dwelt  the  lazy  ccrift. 

Lubar  ||   is  bright  before  me,  in  the  windings  of  its 

■f  Loraisoften  mentioned  ;  it  v?.*  a  fmnll  and  rapid  ftream  inthe  neict 
of  Se'etr.a.  ;c  01'   th'-nn.,u-   n<>.»-  i 

fjorn  a  very  old  fong,  which  the  tranflator  has  farn,  that  one  of  the  '.u 
OH  the  nee ....  ■    •;•■.■  centttrigS  nfgO 

.  ■:  ,1.  i\   -..mi  a  rttUind  id  .no-  t  he  foend 


Tun!  from  rl  nal,  and  aftera  fhort  i  imtl 

ifM.-.i-lm...  heiield  cfbaule.     Behind 

junuia  of  Crpmmal  ran  UtttaiitJi  ilreaai  uf LeyitfhJontfeil)ajiisol  whitjl 


153  TEMORA:  Booh  Vf 

vale.  On  either  fide,  on  their  hills,  rife  the  tall  forms 
of  the  kings  ;  their  people  are  poured  around  them, 
bending  forward  to  their  words  ;  as  if  their  fathers 
fpoke  defcending  from  their  winds  But  the  kings  were 
like  two  rocks  in  the  midft,  each  with  its  dark  head  of 
pines,  when  they  are  feeu  in  the  defert/above  low-fail- 
ing mift.  High  on  the  face  are  ftreams,  which  fpread 
their  foam  on  blafts. 

Beneath  the  voice  of  Cathmor  poured  Erin,  like  the- 
found  of  flame.  Wide  they  came  down  to  Lubar  ;  be- 
fore them  is  the  ftride  of  Foldath.  But  Cathmor  re- 
tired to  his  hill,  beneath  his  bending  oaks.  The  tum- 
bling of  a  ftream  is  near  the  king  :  he  lifts,  at  times, 
his  gleaming  fpear.  It  was  a  flame  to  his' people,  in 
the  midft  of  war.  Near  him  flood  the  daughter  of 
Cori-mor,  leaning  on  her  rock.  She  did  not  rejoice 
over  the  ftrife :  her  foul  delighted  not  in  blood.  A 
valleyf  fpreads  green  behind  the  hill,  with  its  three  blue- 
ftreams.  The  fun  is  there  in  filence  ;  and  the  dun 
niounfairi-rdes  come  down.  On  theie  are  turned  the 
eyes  of  Inis-huna's  white  bofomed  maid. 

Fingal  beheld,  ort  high,  the  fon  Borbar-duthul :  he 
faw  the  deep  rolling  of  Erin,  on  the  darkened  plain. 
He  ftruck  that  warning  bofs,  which  bids  the  people  o- 
bey  ;  when  he  fends  his  chiefs  before  them,  to  the  field 
of  renown.  Wide  rofe  their  fpe'ars  to  the  fun  ;  their  e- 
chohig  fhields  reply  around.  Fear,  like  a  vapour,  did 
not  wind  among  the  hoft :  for  he,  the  king,  was  near, 
the  ftrength  or  ftreamy  Moi;Ven.  GLdueis  brightened 
the  hero  ;  we  heard  his  words  of  joy. 

"  Like  the  coming  forth  of  winds,  is  the  found  of 
Morven's  fons  !  They  are  mountain-waters,  determin- 
ed in  their  courfe.  Hence  is  Fingal  renowned,  and 
his  name  hi  other  lands.  He  was  not  a  lonely  beam  in 
danger;  for  your  fteps  were  always  near.  But  never  was 

Feraffl-  irth6,tfie  fon  of  Oairhar,  the  onlv  perfon  remaining  of  the  raceofConart 

lived  conc.afcd  in  a  cave,  during  the  usurpation  of  Cai.-bar,  the  Ion  of  Eorbar-du-' 

t  It  was  to  this  valley  Sul-malfa  retired,  dur 

•,         »Fii       !  .  .  d  Catrnnor.     It  - 

the  vale  of  Lona,  and  the  readea-'e  of  a  cfruich 


JBdak  V.  Att  EPIC  POEW.  //j 

I  a  dreadful  form, in  your  prefence,  darkened  intowrathV 
My  voice  Mas  no  thunder  to  your  ears  :  mine  eyes  lent 
forth  no  death.  When  the  haughty  appeared,  I  beheld 
th<  m  not.  They  were  forgot  at  my  feafts':  like  milt 
they  melted  away.  A  young  bee.m  is  before  you  ;  few 
are  his  paths  to  war.  They  are  few,  but  he  is  valiant : 
defend  my  dark-haired  fon.  Bring  him  back  with  }by  s 
Ijereafter  he  may  it  and  alone.  His  form  is  like  his  fa- 
thers :  his  foul  is  a  flame  of  their  fire.  Son  of  car  borne 
Morni,  move  behind  the  fon  of  Clrrtho :  let  thv  voice 
reach  his  ear,  from  the  ikirts  of  war.  Not  uno'Merved 
rolls  battle,  before  theei  breaker  of  the  IhiekW 

The  king  ftrode,  at  .  ■  .  . ,  b  ay  to  Coram!  s  lofty 
rock.  As,  How,  I  lifted  my  fteps- behind  j  came  fbrwarcf 
the  ftrengtli  of  Gaul.  His  ihield  hung  loofe  on  its  thong ; 
he  fpoke,  in  hafte,  to  Oflian.  "  Bind  f,  fon  oFFingaT^ 
this  fhield,  bind  it  high  to  the  fide  of  Gaul.  The  foe 
may  behold  it,  and  think  I  lift  the  ipear.  If  I  (half 
fall,  let  my  tomb  be  hid  in  the  field  ,  for  fail  I  muft 
without  my  fame:  mine  arm  cannot  lift  the  flee!.  Let 
net  E vir-choma  hear  it,  to  blulh  between  her  lock?.  I'il- 
Jan,  the  tnighty  behold  us  !  let  us  not  forget  the  ftrife/ 
Why  fhould  they  come,  from  tlieir  hills,  to  aid  our  fly- 
ing field  r. 

He  ftrode  onward,  with  the  found  of  his  fnield  My 
voice  purfued  him,  Efe  he  went.  "  Can  the  Ion  of  Mor- 
ni  fall  without  his  fame  in  Erin  ?  Bat  the  deeds  of  the 
riiighty  fprfake  their  fouls  of  fire.  They  rtiflj  carelefs. 
over  the  fields  of  renown ;  their  Words  are  never  heard.'" 
I  rejoiced  over  the  fteps  of  the  chief:  I  itrode  to  the 
rock  of  the  king,  where  he  fat  in  his  wandering  locks, 
jtmidft  the  mountain-wind. 

In  two  dark  ridges  bend  l  he  hods,  towards  each  o- 
ther,  at  Lubar.  Here  Fpldatfi  role  a  pillar  ordarknefs; 
Riere  brightened  the  youth  of  Fill  an.  Each  with  his 
fpear  in  the  ftream,  fer.t  forth  the  voice  of  war*     Gaul 

Vol.  tL  O 

tltisne 
I  .  U  <-  -kueuic^  «...  OS:-  •    Lis  lido. 


154  TRMORA:  Mot  V. 

{truck  the  fhieM  of  Morven  :  at  once  they  plunge  in 
battle.  Steel  poured  its  gleam  on  fteel :  like  the  rail  of 
ffrvav  is  (hone  the  field,  -when  they  mix  their  foam  toge- 
ther, from  two  dark -bro wed  rocks.  Behold  he  comes, 
the  fon  of  fame  :  he  lays  the  people  low !  Deaths  fit  on 
Hafts  around  him  !  Warriors  llrew  thy  paths,  O  Fil- 
lan  ! 

Rothmarf,  the  fhield  of  warriors,  flood  between 
two  chinky  locks.  Two  oaks,  which  winds  had  bent 
from  high,  fprcad  their  branches  on  either  fide.  He 
rolls  his  darkening  eyes  on  villan,  and  fiient,  ftsades  W:c 
friends.  Fingai  law  the  appi  caching  fight  3  and  all  his 
foularofe.  But  as  fejie  Sons  of  JLoda  |j  falls,  fliook,  at 
once,  from  socking  Druman-ard,  when  fpirits  heave 
the  earth  in  their  wrath  ;  io  fell  blue  ihielded  Roth- 
jnar. 

Near  are  the  fteps  of  Cuhnin ;  the  youth  came,  hurft- 
ing  into  tears.  Wrathful  he  cut  the  wind,  ere  yet  he 
mixed  his  ftrokes  with  Fillan.  He  had  firft  bent  the 
bow  with  Rothmar,  at  the  rock  of  his  ov.  n  fabsre  flreams. 
There  they  bad  taaufked  the  place  of  the  roe,  as  the  fun- 
beam  flew  over  the  fern.  Why,  fon  of  Cul-allin,  doft 
that  bcam*j[  of  light  I  It  is  a  fire  that  con- 
fumes.  Your);  of  Strutha  retire.  Your  fathers  were 
lual,  is  the  rlittering  hrite  of  the  held. 


pent-  r.  AS   EPIC   POEM.  ijj 

forth  bft  blue-ruling  Strut  ha.    A  wisirlwutt  rifes  on 
i!.'.  Areata,  dark-eddying  w  ttfohi 

His   dogsf    are  howling  in   tbeir place;  bis  ihield  is 

bloody  i>.i  the  hsSL     "  Art  ulcu  fallen,  my  fair-haired 
lbn,  in  Erin's  difmal  "w  ^r  :" 

As  a  roe,  pierced  in  iecret,  ties  pitltiag,  bv  her  wont- 
ed ftreams,  the  hunter  looses  over  her  feet  of  wind,  and 
remembers  her  ftattlv  fore  .  lb  lay  the  fon 

of  Cul  ntl;n,  beneath  the  ere  od  i  iilan.  His  hair  is  rol- 
led in  a  little  ftreara:  his  blood  wan  nield. 
Still  his  handheld  the  fWbndi  bhat  Faikxfhim  La  ri 
bf  his  danger.  "Thou  art  fallen,"  faid  Eiikin,  -'ere 
yet  thy  fai  ie  wis  '..r.-J.  Td  *  thee  to  war  : 
and  he  expecls  to  hear  thy  deeds.  Be  is  gi a\ ,  perhaps, 
at  his  (breams,  barbing  his  dim  eyes  towards  Moi-lena* 
But  thou  fnalt  not  return,  viith  the  fpoil  of  the  fallen 
foe." 

Fillan  poured  the  flight  of  Erin  before  him,  over  the 
bchoing  heath.  But,  man  on  man,  fell  Morven  before 
•;  r^d  rage  of  Foldath  ;  for,  far  on  the  field,  he 
beared  the  roar  of  half  his  tribes.  Dei  mid  flood  be- 
fore him  in  wrath  :  the  fons  of  Cona  gather  round* 
But  his  fliield  is  cleft  by  Foldath,  and  his  people  pour- 
ed over  the  heath. 

Then  faid  the  foe,  in  his  pride,  "  They  have  fled* 
and  my  fame  begins.  Go,  Malthos,  and  bid  the  king 
to  guard  the  dark-rolling  of  ocean  ;  that  Fingal  may 
hotefcapefrom  myfword.  He  mitftlie  on  earth.-  Be- 
fide  fome  fen  fhall  his  tomb  he  feen.  It  fhall  rile  with-a 
our  a  long  His  ghoft  fhall  hover  in  mill  over  the 
reedy  pool." 

Malthos  heard,  with  darkening  doubt  ;  he  rolied  his 

O    2 

fOogswere  thought  to  be  fen ftble  of  the  death  of  their  maP.er,  let  it  happeii 

which  warriors  left  ft home became  bta  ■-:  .     bea     .      tbe  -  fell  .;.  j.  ;-..e. 

•  fns  tf-it  Ci.l-allin   ■-  .... |    it  ber  fori  is 

kiile.i  j  ii.  which  Oteiscoafirmbd  by  the  •':  .Jen  and 

iwat»n,  on  the  CKCauoDtir  mure  affecting  I  n4id  her 

-  .u  ;•.  greater  lemttli.      I  he  af.;fjde  o;  tiij  faHon  youth,  d*.A  i'llia.i's  re- 
I  w,  and  come  forcibly  back  oa  the  niiict 

when  we  confi  :■  :,U\m  the  ftr.voiUl  li.iM.i  r.i  <>t  the  .'other  of  Culrcin,  w»  fo  fi- 
milar  to  that  of  riagad,  aiter  tbe  ikath  of  ilUan  mmteli. 


I56  TEMORA:  Book  V. 

iilent  eyes.  He  knew  the  pride  of  Foldath,  and  looked 
up  to  the  king  on  his  hiii;  then,  darkly  turning,  he 
plunged  his  fword  in  war. 

In  C'lo-ao'-^  narrow  v.^le,  where  bend  two  trees  above 
the  ftrearns,  dark  in  his  grief  (tqod  Duthno's  Iilent  fon. 
The  blood  poured  from  his  thigh  ;  his  fhield  lay  brok- 
en near.  His  fpear  leaned  againft  a  ftone.  Why,  Der- 
inid,  why  fo  fad?  "  I  hear  the  roar  of  battle.  My  peo- 
ple are  alone.  My  fieps  are  flow  on  the  heath  ;  and 
jio  fhield  is  mine.  Shall  he  then  prevail  ?  It  is  then  af- 
ter Dermid  is  Tow  !  I  will  call  thee  forth,  O  Foidath  ! 
and  me,ct  thee  yet  in  fight." 

He  took  his  fpear,  with  dreadful  joy.  The  fon  of 
Morni  came.  "  Stay,  fon  of  Duthno,  ilay  thy  fpeed  ,' 
ihy  fteps  are  marked  with  blood.  No  boffy  fhield  is 
.thine.  Why  fhoukjeft  thou  fall  unarmed?."  f*  King  of 
Strumon;  give  thou  thy  fhield.  ■  It  has  often  rolled  back 
the  war.  I  /hail  flop  the  chief,  in  has  courfe.  Son  of 
Morni,  doft  thou  behold  that  ftone  ?  It  lifts  its  gray 
head  through  grafs.  There  dwells  a  chief  of  the  race 
of  Dermid.  '  Place  me  there  in  night." 

He  fipwlyrofe  againit  the  hill,  and  faw  the  troubled 

+  This  valley  nad  its  name  from  Clono,  fon  of  Lethmal  of  Lora,  one  of  the  an- 

.-.•n:>ro  of  In  ■■r,\,<,  V  c  Ton  of  Dn.'.uu-  i-Ii'o  hi!'.'  ry  i*  t  >j<  elated  in  an  old  poem. 
7  .  til-  i! -•-,••  01  Conar,  Ine  17.  a  ot  T.cn:'-;>r.  the  Hrlt  kins;   ul  If.-ianil,  C'lmo  yA\'t:<i 


firri  V.  AM  EPIC  POfC  iff 

field.  The  gleaming  ridges  of  the  fig! it,-  disjoined  :md 
broken  round.  As  dilhnt  fires,  an  h  sath  by  night,  now 
feem  as  loll  in  finokt,  then  reariu g  tfceir  red  ffreams  ori 
the  bill,  as  blow  or  ctafe  the  winds:  io  met  the  inter- 
cutting war  theeyeofbroad ■fhieided  Dernfid.  Tlfirougtj 
the  boil  are  the  ftrides  of  Foldath,  like  fomedark  (hip 
on  wintery  waws,  when  it  iilues  from  between  two 
ifles,  to  (port  on  echoing  feas. 

Dcrmrd,  with  rage,  beheld  his  courfe.  He  ftrove  to' 
rufh  along.  But  he  failed  in  the  midil  of  his  fteps  ; 
and  the  big  tear  came  down.  He  founded  his  father's 
horn;  and  thrice  ftruck  his  bofiy  ihiekl.  He  called; 
thrice  the  name  of  Foldath,  from  his  roaring  tribes. 
Foldath,  with  joy,  beheld  the  chief:  he  lifted  high  hie 
bloody  fpear.  As  a  rock  is  marked  with  fireams,  that 
fell  troubled  down  its  fide  in  a  ftorm  ;  lb,  ftreaked  with 
wandering  blood,  is  the  dark  form  of  Moma.  The 
hoft,  on  either  fide,  withdrew  from  the  contending 
of  kings.  They  railed,  at  once,  the!)  gleaming  points* 
Palming  came  Fillan  of  Moruth.  Three  paces  back 
Foldath  withdrew  ;  dazzled  with  that  beam  of  light 
which  came,  as  iffuing  from  a  cloud,  to  five  the  wound- 
ed hero.  Growing  in  his  pride  he  ftood,  and  called 
forth  all  his  fteel. 

As  meet  two  broad-winged  eagles,  in  their  found- 
ing ftrife,  on  the  winds  ;  lb  rufhed  the  two  chiefs,  on 
Mci-iena,  into  gloomy  fight.  By  turns  are  the  Heps 
hi  the  kings  r  forward  on  their  rocks;  for  now?  the  duf- 
ky  v.rr  feems  to  defcerrd  on  their  fwordV.  Oathmor 
feels  the  joy  of  warrioro.  on  his  mofty  hill :  their  joy 
Id  fedret  when  clangers  rile  equal  to  their  fouls;  His 
eye  is  not  turned  on  Lubar,  but  en  Morvenfs  dreadful 
king  ;   tor  he  beheld  him,  on  Mora,  rifing  ra  his  arms. 

Foldath  ||  fell  on  his  ihield ;  the  fpear-  of  Filiaft  piero 

O  3 

- 

'•11,  before 
fceaart  left  hi 

He  wc:i: 

■ 

.-•  - 


i$%  TEMORA:  Bo»t  V. 

ed  the  kin$.  Nor  leaked  'he  youth  on  the  fallen,  but 
onward  relied  the  war.  The  hundred  voices  of  death 
arofe.  "  Slay,  foij  of  Fingal,  ftay  thy  fpeed.  Be- 
holder! thou  not  that  glearrhng  form,  a  dreadful  fign 
of  death  \  Awaken  not  the  king  of  Ainecma.  Return 
ion  of  blue-eyed  Clatho." 

MaJthps  \  faw  Foldath  low.  He  darkly  ftood  above 
the  king.  Hatted  was  rolled  from  his  foi.l.  Ke  Teem- 
ed a  rock  in  the  defert,  on  whofe  dark  lide  are  the 
trickling;  of  waters,  when  the  flow- failing  mift  has  left 
it,  and  its  trees  are  Wafted  with  wind&.  lie  fpoke  to 
the  dying  hero,  about  the  narrow  houfc.  Whether 
fhall  thy  gray  ftone  rife  in  Uflin?  or  in  Moma's  || 
vvoocty  land,  where  the  fun  looks,  in  fecref,  on  the  blue 
ftreamjs  of  Dai-rut  ho  r  ?  There  are  the  fteps  of  thy 
flat  gjiter,  bluereyed  Dardu-Iena. 

'.i-i  ■'■■'.'  .  ,>,   -..'■•  •'"  '•!,!.     I   n.'.l.  here,  tranilate  the  anfwc] 


Book  V.  AN   EPIC  POEM.  IJ1 

"  Remembereft  thou  her,"  faid  Foldath,  "  becaufe 
jno  fon  is  mine  ,  no  youth  to  roll  the  battle  before  him, 
in  revenge  of  me  ?  Malthos,  I  am  revenged.  I  was 
not  peaceful  in  the  field.  Raife  the  tombs  of  thole  t 
have  bain,  around  my  narrow  houfe.  Ofren  fhall  i 
forfake  die  blaft,  to  rejoice  above  their  graves  ;  when  I 
behold  them  fpread  around,  with  their  long- whittling 
ferafs.V 

'  His  foul  rufhed  to  the  vales  of  Moma,  and  came  to 
Da-  du-lena?s  dreams,  where  fhe  fiept,  by  Dal-rutho's 
Pream,  returning  iron  the  chafe  of  the  hinds.  Her 
bow  is  near  the  maid,  unftrung  ;  the  breezes  fold  her 
long  hair  on  her  breafts.  Clothe;!  in  the  beauty  of 
youth,  the  love  of  heroes  lay.  Dark  bending,  from  the 
forts  of  the  wood.,  bey  wounded  father  came.  He  ap- 
peared, at  tints,  then  Feemed  as  hid  in  mift.  Burlt- 
mg  into  tears  fl,e  rofe  :  fue  knew  that  the  chief  was 
low.  To  her  came  a  beam  from  his  foul  when  folded 
in  if.  florins.  Thou  wert  the  laft  of  his  race,  blue-eyed 
pardu-lena! 

Wide-fpreading  over  echoing  Lubar,  the  flight  of 
Bo'ga  is  rolled  along.  Fillan  hung  forward  on  their 
fteps;  and  ftrewed,  with  ck  ad,  the  heath.  Fingal  re- 
joiced over  his  fon.     Blue-ihlelded  Cathmor  rofe. 

Sou  f  of  Alpin,  bring  the  harp  :  give  Fillaivs  praifjg 
to  the  wind  :  raife  high  his  praife,  in  my  hall,  while 
yet  he  mines  in  war. 

Leave,    blue-eyed    Glatho,    leave  thy  hall      Bel  ?U 

.  y    bean,  of  thine.     The  hoft  is  withered  in  its 

couiie.     No  further  look — it  is  dark.     Light-trembling 

from  the  harp,  ftrike,  virgins,  Itrike  the  found.     No 

hunter  |ie  deicends,  from  the  dewy  haunt  of  the  bound- 

t  Thefe  fcddes  rranfitions  froi  i  the  fubjedt  are  nnt  uncommon  in  the  rnmnr-fi . 
..  -Ihrbi'Mlvaii-  I  io;-ii.:v.     Yw'iui 
.      ■  -  :h  the  pai  i  I  of  t!i  -  ■    ■v-.ihe  idea  of  filial  ' 

-•      1"   ere 
-.'  'ire  in  - 
ftances  of  ah  imporrtaat   Cceneis  generally  cold    ind  infipid     The  human  rain. 
.  ■ 

to  mark  the  moft  Itrikin  ■  i>>' 
iifh  the  figure  for  theriifrives. 
I :  E  afternoon  of  the  third  Jay,  fronj  the  oue&ing  of  the  n.»j.-) . 


i6o  temora:  Eooi  V. 

ing  rce.     He  bends  not  his  bow  on  the  wind;  or  fends 
his  gray  arrow  abroad. 

Deep-folded  in  red  war,  the  battle  rolls  agalnft  his 
fide.  Or,  finding  midit  the  ridgy  ftrife,  he  pours  the 
deaths  of  thoufands  forth.  Fiilan  is  like  a  fpirit  of 
heaven,  that  ddcends  from  the  fkirt  of  his  blaft.  The 
troubled  ocean  feels  his  fleps,  as  he  ftrides  from  wave 
to  wave.  His  path  kindles  behind  him  ;  ifiands  {hake 
their  heads  on  the  heaving  feas. 


&&^&8^ 


vaf     •SnSftjwSMF 


T  E  M  O  R  A; 


EPIC   POEM. 

THE   ARGUMENT. 

Thi?  book  opens  with  a  fpeech  of  Fingal,  who  fees  Catfimor  defcending  to  the  a/. 

I 'ho  In.-difpatches  Oiiian  to  the  relief  of  fillaif. 

McM.i.i     :■■■•■"  !.".:  tl..;  .  .:,i     -:voHt  thel'eht  o;  i:,.-  c  -    ->  ■ 

ureen  bis  fon  aiidCathmor.   Oifiai  .«!■::'  ''  ,  .    i.i.  ■.- 

described.    He  /allies  the  art)  •     rene".        •'■'.':'.,   .    ..'•. 

rive,  engages  Fillan  hiinfelf:    Upon  th    tpprpaU  Han,  the  combat  I  :tween 

the  two  liei.'o.  oeafes.     0$ianand  Cathr.n  •    •...  .t  t  fining 

fought     He  finds  FiUan'morta    r  wounded,  ai  <      i  heir 

difcouro:.     E'i"  ir  .lie   :   i  ..-..,                                   The 

f  :             mi   irr.p.  return  t;.  Fingal."    1  [  his  for.,    ..r.ri  nn. 

derttand                                    .  '.     Upon 


book  yi. 

"  pATHMOR  rifes  on  his  echoing  hill !  Shall  Fingal 
'^  take  the  fword  of  Luno-?  But  what  fnould  be- 
come of  thy  lame,  fon  of  white-bofomed  Clatho  ?  Turn 
not  thine  eyes  from  Fingal,  daughter  of  Iniftpre.  I 
fhall  not  quench  thy  eariy  beam  ;  it  fhines  along  my 
foul.  But  rife,  O  wood- ilcirted  Mora,  rile  between  the 
war  and  me  !  Why  mould  Fingal  behold  the  ftrife, 
led  his  dark-haired  warrior  fhould  fail !  AiritdfE  the 
fong,  O  Carril,  pour  the  found  of  the  trembling  harp  i 
here  are  the  voices  of  rocks,  and  bright  tumbling  of 
waters.  Father  of  .Ofcar  lift  the  (pear ;  defend  the 
young  in  arms.  Conceal  thy  Heps  from  Fillan's  eyes. 
He  mult  not  know  that  I  dpubt  his  fteel.  No  cloud 
of  mine  Cbta.ll  rife,  my  fon,  upon  thy  foul  of  lire  !" 

He  funk  behind  his  rock,  amidft  the  found  of  Carril's 
Jong.    Brightening,  in  my  growing  foul,  I  tool 


l6a  TFMDRAl  Booh  F-J, 

fpear  of  Temora  \.  I  law,  along  Moi-lena,  the  wild 
tumbling  cf  battle,  the  ftrife  of  death,  in  gleaming 
rows.  disjoined  arc!  broken  round.  F''Ian  is  abeam  of 
fire,  from  wfcig  to  whig  is  his  wafteful  courfe>  The 
ridgt  s  of  war  melt  before  him.  They  are  rolled,  in 
fh  l<  :  e,  from  the  fields. 

Now  is  the  coming  forth  of  Cathroor,  in  the  armour 
of  kings !  Dark-Polled  the  eaglet  wing  above  his  hel- 
met of  fire.  Unconcerned  are  his  Heps,  as  if  they  Mere 
to  the  chafe  of  Atha.  He  raifed,  at  times,  his  dread- 
ful voice;  Erin,  abafhed,  gathered  round.  Their  fo«3s 
returned  back,  like  a  liream ;  they  wondered  at  tfie 
ft<  p?  of  their  fear :  for  he  role,  like  the  beam  of  the 
hioraing  on  a  haunted  heath  :  the  traveller  looks  back, 
with  bending  eye.  on  the  field  of  dreadful  forms.  Sud- 
den, from  the  rock  of  Moi-lena,  are  Sul  malla's  trem- 
bling fteps.  An  oak  took  the  fpear  from  her  hand ; 
hah  bent  fhe  loofed  the  lance  :  but  then  are  her  eyes  on 
the  king,  from  amidft  her  wandering  locks.  "  No 
friendly  ftrife  is  before  thee :  no  light  contending  of 
bows,  as  when  the  youth  of  Cluba  j|  came  forth  be- 
neath the  eye  of  Coft-mor." 

As  the  rock  of  Runo,  which  takes  the  pairing  clouds 
for  its  robe,  ieems  growing,  in  gathered  darknefs,  over 
the  ftreamy  heath  ;  fo  feemed  the  chief  of  Atha  taller, 
as  gathered  his  people  round*  As  different  blafts  fly- 
over the  fea,  each  behind  its  dark-blue  wave,  fo  Cath- 
mor's  words,  on  every  fide,  poured  his  warriors  forth. 
[Nor  filent  on  his  hill  is  Fiiian  ;  he  mixed  his  words 
with  his  echoing  fhield.  An  eagle  he  feemed,  with 
founding  wings,  calling  the  wind  to  his  rock,  when  he 
fees  the  coming  forth  of  the  roes,   on  Lutha'st  rufhy 

■toif.Cb  Clear  h:.d  received,  in  a  prefent,  from 
"  o  uelieni  coaft 


i,  in  the  d*\„  of  Offian,  There 
lalvina,  »hi.,  upon  that  account,- 
:s>  fwilt  itream. 


t  The  fnear  o 

Tcmora 

Cornutc  the  lbs 

I,  Cly-ba,  « wi 

Of  SoutJl  Brital 

Ireland.     Con-. 

flofcofthefeui 

efunofC 

is  ©fien  cilled  tae  maid  o 

Sank   VT.  AN.  EPIC   POEM.  T^ 

|  :  '.  Now  they  fcent  forward  in  battle:  death's  hun- 
dred voices  role  ;  for  the  kings,  on  either  fide,  were 
like  fires  wi  the  forth  of  the  people*  I  bounded  along: 
high  rocks  and  tree?  n  fh  d  11  between  the  war  and 
m?.     Bat  J  \\-  of  fteel,  between  my  clang- 

in;- arms.     1>  . .;,  on  the  hill,  1  beheld  the 

nrd  fteps  or"  holts:  their  backward  fteps,  on  ei- 
ther I:!.,  and  v-.-i'  1'v  looking  eye*.  The  chiefs  were 
met  in  dreadful  fight;  the  two  blue-fhielded  kings. 
_rh  gleams  of  fteel,  are  i'^a  the 
ftriving  heroes.  I  ruih.d.  My  fears  fear  Milan  flew, 
burning  acrof;  mv  foul. 

I  came  ;  nor  Cathmor  fled ;  nor  yet  advanced  :  he 
fidciong  ftatited  along.  An  icy  rock,  cold*  tall  he  feem- 
ed.  I  called  forth  all  my  fteel.  Silent  awhile  we 
ftrode,  o:i  either  fide  or  a  mfhiftg  ftream:  then,  hid- 
den turning,  all  at  qvee,  we  railed  our  pointed  fpears. 
We  railed  our  fpears,  bat  night  came  down.  It  is  dark 
I  arouB  :  ;  but  where  the  diidanc  fteps  of  holts 
are  founding  over  (be  heath. 

■  wh.fc  Fillan  fought.  Nor  voire, 
nor  found  is  there.  A  broken  helmet  lay  on  earth  ; 
a  buckler  cleft  in  twain.  "  Where,  Fiilan,  where  art 
thou,  young  chief  of  echoing  Morven  r"  lie  heard  me 
k,  whiek  bent  its  gray  head  over 
i  dark  he  itood.  At 
length  1  law  the  chief. 

I,  robed  in  darkne(s,fon  of  woody 
Sclma  :  Bright  is  thy  path,  mv  brother,  in  this  dark- 
brown  field.  Long  ha:;  been  thy  ftrife  in  battle.  Now 
the  horn  of  Fingal  is  heard  Afcend  to  the  cloud  of 
thy  fath<  r,  to  his  hill  oi'  feafh.  In  the  evening  milt  he 
ht?,  and  hears  the  voice  of  Carril's  harp.  Carry  joy  to 
;.-d,  young  breaker  of  the  fhieids." 
"  Can  the  vanqulfaed  carry  joy  ?  Offian,  noihieldis. 
nunc  It  lies  broken  on  t!ie  field.  The  eagk-wiagof 
my  helmet  is  torn.  It  is  when  foes  fly  before 
that  fathers  delight  in  dieir  fons.  But  their  ii<Us  burfl 
forth.,  in  fecretj  v/hen  their  young  warriors  yield.     .  I 


T.()£  TEMORA:  Boni  pfj 

Fillan  will  not  behold  the  king.     Why  fhould  the  he- 
ro mourn  ?" 

"  Son  of  blue-eyed  Clatho,  why  doll  thou  awake  my 
foul  ?  Wert  thou  not  a  burning  fire  before  him  ;  and' 
fnall  he  not  rejoice?  Such  fame  belonged  not  to  Oman  ; 
yet  was"tke  king  ftill  a  fun  to  me.  He  looked  on  my 
fteps,  with  joy  ;  fhadows  never  rofe  on  hi3  face.  Af- 
cend,  O  Filian  to  Mora  :  his  feaft  is  fprcad  in  the  folds 
ofmift." 

"  Offian,  give  me  that  broken  fhield:  thefe  feathers 
that  are  rolled  in  the  wind.  Place  them  near  to  Fillan, 
that  lefs  of  his  fame  may  fall.  Offian,  I  begin  to  fail. 
Lay  ihe  in  that  hollow  rock.  Raiie  no  ftone  above: 
left  one  fhould  afk  about  rny  fame.  I  am  fallen  in  the 
firft  of  my  fields:  fallen  without  renown.  .Let  thy 
A'oice  alone  fend  jov  to  my  flying  foul.  Why  fhould 
the  feeble  know  where  dwells  the  loft  beam  of  Cla- 
tho f?" 

"  Is  thy  fpirit  on  the  eddying  winds,  blue-eyed  king 
of  fhields  ?  Joy  purfue  my  hero,  through  his  folded 
clouds.  The  forms  of  thy  fathers,  O  Fillan,  bend  to 
receive  their  fan.  I  behold  the  fpreading  of  their  fire 
on  Mora  !  the  blue  rolling  of  their  mifty  wreaths.  Joy 
meet  thee,-  my  brother.  But  we  are  dark  and  fad.  I 
behold  the  foe  round  the  aged,  and  the  wafting  away 
of  his  fame.-  Thou  art  left  alone  in  the  field,  gray- 
haired  king  of  Sehna." 

I  laid  him  in  the  hollow  rock,  at  the  roar  of  the  night- 
ly ftrcam.  One  red  ftar  looked  in  on  the  hero  :  winds 
lift,  at  times,  his  lock?.  I  liftened :  no  found  was 
heard:  for  the  warrior fiept.  As  lightning  on  a  cloud, 
i.  thought  came  nifhiag  over  my  foul.  My  eyes  rol- 
led in  fire  :  my  ftfide  was  in  the  clang  of  fteeV.  "  I  will 
find  thee,  chief  of  Atha  in  the  gathering  of  thy  thou- 
fands.  Why  fhould  that  cloud  eicape,  that  quenched 
our  early  beam  ?  Kindle  your  meteors,  my  fathers,  to 

.  +  A  dialogue  between  Clafho.  the  mother  ?.r,c.   Bofrnina  t.ie  (liter,  of  thai 
Kero 

■'•  Daughter  oj'Fir.g-,;!,  arife:  thou  light  between  thy  loefcS!     :  ifl  thf* 


Sonh  VT.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  l6^ 

light  my  daring  fteps.  I  will  confume  in  wrath  f.  Should 
I  not  return  !  the  king  is  without  a  (en,  gray  haired 
am  id  ft  his  foes.  His  arm  is  not  as  in  the  days  of  old : 
his  fame  grows  dim  in  Erin.  Let  me  not  behold  him. 
'from  high,  laid  low  in  his  latter  field.  But  can  Ire- 
turn  to  the  king  ?  Will  he  not  afk  about  his  fon  ? 
"  1  hououghteft  to  defend  young  Fillan.^  I  will  meet 
the  foe.  Green  Inis-fail,  thy  founding  tread  is  plea- 
fant  to  my  ear :  1  rufh  on  thy  ridgy  hoft,  to  fhun  the 
eyes  of  Fingal.  I  hear  the  voice  ot  the  king,  on  Mo- 
ra's mifty  tcp  !  He  calls  his  two  Ions  ;  1  come,  my  fa- 
ther, in  my  grief  I  come  like  an  eagle,  which  the  flame 
of  night  met  in  the  deiert,  and  lpoiled  of  half  his  wings." 
Vol.  II.  P 

fair  head  from  reft,  foft-gliding  Tun-beam  of  Selma  !  1  beheld  thy  arm«,  on  thy 
brealt,  white-toff-d  a:nul,t  thy  wandering  1'ic  .s:  when  the  ru,l!:nK  breeze  o:  the 
morning  curve  1  .j  n  the  defert  of  Hi  earns.  Halt  ti.o  .  feen  thy  fathers,  Boi-mma, 
defcendmg  in  thy  d.  earns  i  A.  ife,  daughter  of  ClaUio;  dwells  then  augut  of  grief 
in  U.v  foafr 

Bos-mina — A  thin  form  palled  before  me,  fading  a  i  it  flew  :  like  the  darkening 
wave  of  a  b  eeze,  alo  g  a  :icld  ol  g  fs.  Defcend  fio.n  thy  wall,  O  harp,  and  call 
back  the  foul  ol  B^s-mlna,  it  has  r.  lied  awa-  ,  like  a  itream.  1  hear  thy  pleafant 
found      lh.-ar  thee,  O  harp,  and  my  \oici  (ha  1  r:fe. 

Kow  often  fhall  ye  rufh  to  war  >  t  dwell  is  oi  .ay  f  ml  ?  Your  path*  are  diltant, 
kings  t.f  men,  in  Liin  of  blu;  fi.re.un,.  L'lt  thy  wing,  thou  fuuthem  breeze, 
from  Clono's  darkening  heath  :  fp.ead  the  ia:ls  of  Fingal  towards  the  ba.^  ol  his 
land 

But  who  is  that,  in  his  flrength,  darkening  in  the  prefence  of  war!  His  arm 
ftretches  to  the  lo.,  like  ..u.e  beam  of  ihetliAl  ■:  irn;  when  Ms  iide  i-  cruftcd  with 
darknefs ;  and  he  roll-  hisdifma!  courfe  through  the  iky.  Who  is  it  but  <he  father 
ofB  ;-:;iina>   shall  he  return  till  riang.i  is  pic? 

F.llan,  thou  art  a  heim  by  h,s  .Id. ;  be  mriful,  bit  terrible,  is  thy  l'ght.  Thy 
fword  isb.fore  the-,  a  blue  fireo  night  \V  hen  Ih  dt  thou  reluin  to  thy  roes;  to> 
the  dreams  orth.  rufhy  t,  1  .  >  \Vh»..  ihall  1  beholu  thee  from  Mora,  wuile  wind* 
flrew  my  long  luck*  jb  mof= !  But  fhall  a  young  eagle  re:urn  from  the  field  whero 
the  heroes  fall ! 

Clathn  —  oft,  as  the  fone  of  I.oda,  isthe  voice  of  Selma's  maid.  Pleafant  to  the 
earoi  Clatbo  is  the  name  of  the  biea.ter  of  ihields  beooiu  the  iiw  come,  from 
ocean  :  th  fhield  of  Morven  is  borr.e  by  bard..  The  to  •  ha,  rtc-d  b.iore  him,  like 
the  depanuie  oi  mill.  1  hear  not  th  founding  u  ings  of  my  eafele  ;  th:  rulhing 
forth  wf  taefonof  Clatho     rhou  art  dark,  ()  F,.i -.1  ;  ih  t.l  lie  no:  return  !  ^ 

mere  the  fen' er.ee  is  ,!  <"i  nedlyleftun  l"he  fenfe  is,  that 

he  was  reined.  1  k    a  deftroyiug  fire,  to  conl  r,wb     bad  killed  bis 

brother      In   the  miult  ot  tli.5  refolution,  i  nofFn       I      g  ;er  ;  I'icir  to 

him,  in  a  very  firong light      Ue  refalves  to         rn  to  a  lit    he  kangin  profecuting 


Ufh,  they  uatuially  blame  theuofclvei,  as  th» 


tl66  TEMORA:  Booh  VI. 

Diftant  f ,  round  the  king,  on  Mora,  the  broken 
ridges  of  Morveu  are  rolled.  They  turned  their  eyes  : 
each  darkly  bends,  on  his  own  afhen  fpear.  Silent  flood 
"the  king  in  the  midit.  Thought  on  thought  rolled  over 
his  foul.  As  waves  on  a  fecret  mountain  lake,  each 
with  its  back  of  foam.  He  looked  ;  no  fon  appeared, 
■with  his  long  beaming  fpear.  The  nghs  rofe,  crowd- 
ing from  his  foul ;  but  he  concealed  his  grief.  At 
length  I  flood  beneath  an  oak.  No  voice  of  mine  was 
heard.  What  could  I  fay  to  Fingal  in  his  hour  of  wo  I 
Kis  words  rofe,  at  length,  in  the  midit :  the  people 
ihrunk  backward  as  he  fpoke  j|. 

"  Where  is  the  fon  of  Selma,  he  who  led  in  war  ?  I 
behold  not  his  fleps,  among  my  people,  returning  from 
the  field.     Fell  the  young  bounding  roe,  who  was  fo 

+  This  fpsne  is  !blem».    The  pect  always  plates  his  chief  ehara&er  amidft  ob- 


f>Ji   ages  i'.i   .!  f.imlv,    and   they  wvuk!  fcize   ev<  .-■ 

jurtejs    it    came    immediately  from   the   hands  of  the  chief  ] 

cafe  it  was  Ukc.i  ratuei  «•>  »  I-Li.rly  jun-ttwti,  iuwi  a  legal  p 

fences. 


Jfnoi  VI.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  1^7 

(lately  on  my  hills  ?  He  fell ;  for  ye  are  filent.  The 
fhleld  of  war  is  broke.  Let  his  armour  be  near  to  Fin- 
gal  ;  and  the  iword'of  dark-brown  Limo.  I  am  wak* 
ed  on  iny  hills :  With  morning  I  dcfcend  to  war." 

High  f  on  Cormul's  rock,  an  oak  flamed  to  the 
wind.  The  gray  fkirts  of  miff  are  rolled  around  ;  thi- 
ther ftrode  the  king  in  his  wrath-  Diftant  from  the 
hoft  he  always  lav,  when  battle  burned  within  his  foul. 
On  two  fpea'rs  hung  his  fhield  on  high ;  the  gleaming 
fign  of  death  ;  that  fhield,  which  he  was  wont  to  ftrike, 
by  night,  before  he  rallied  to  war.  It  was  then  his 
warriors  knew,  when  the  king  was  to  lead  in  ftrife  ; 
for  never  was  this  buckler  heard,  till  Fingal's  wrath  a- 
rofe.  Unequal  were  his  fteps  on  high,  as  he  flicne  in 
the  beam  or  the  oak  ;  he  was  dreadful  as  the  form  of 
the  fpirit  of  night,  when  he  clothes,  on  hills,  his  wild 
geftures  with  mift,  and,  ifiuing  forth,  on  the  troubled 
ocean,  mounts  the  car  of  winds. 

Nor  fettled,  from  the  ftorm,  is  Erin's  fea  cf  war; 
they  glittered  beneath  the  moon,  and,  low-humming, 
ftill  roiled  on  the  field.  Alone  are  the  fteps  of  Cathmor, 
before  them  on  the  heath ;  he  hung  forward,  with  all 
his  arms,  on  Morven's  flying  hoft.  Now  had  he  come 
to  the  mofiy  cave,  where  Fillan  lay  in  night.  One  tree 
was  bent  above  the  ftream,  which  glittered  over  the 
ro«_k.  There  fhone  to  the  moon  the  broken  fhield  of 
Clatho's  fon ;  and  near  it,  on  grafs,  lay  hairy-footed 
Bran  || .  He  had  miffed  the  chief  on  Mora,  and  fearch- 
P  z 

■fThis  rockofCormulis  often  mentioned  in  the  t>reced:n~  part  of  the  poem.  It 
was  on  i  1  Fingal  ,md\  Oifian  flood  to  -iewihe  battle,  the  caitom  of  ret  ring 
from  thear;in,on  the  ripht  prio.  Lo  ;h  :ir  engaging  in  battle,  v.;c-  univerfal  ..'v;ng 
the  king?  ..t  the  Caledonians.  Trenmor,  the  moit  renowned  of  the  incei'torsof 
!  •   -ntionedasthefirft  whoinititute.i  :..  jC.iit.iH)     SutceiViBg ':  -. 

tuted  it  to  a  hero  of  a  later  period.  In  an  old  poem,  which  begins  with  "  Mac-Ar- 
cath  nan  c?ud  frol,"  this  cnttom  of  retiring  from  the  arm  > ,  b-icre  an  en;; 
is  numhjreti  an.ong  the  .vi:e  inltitution    ot "  Ferp>;,.  thelon  of  Arc  or  Arcath,  the 
r  .:  Scots.     1  fhv.ll  here  tranf.ate  the  paflage;   in  fome  other  note      :.in.y 

;    i;  that  remains  of  the  poem.     •''  Fergus  of  the  hundred  lii-earns,  0<\x 
of  Arcath  who  fongbt  of  old  :  thou  didlt  firft  retire  at  night ;  when  tie  foe  nulled, 
befoic  thee,  in  ech'iing  fields.    Nor  bending  in  relt  is  the  king  :  hegat: 
in  hi-,  foul.     Fly,  fon  of  the  stranger  ;  with  morn  he  (hall  rufh  abroad  "  When,  or 
this  poem  waswril  iscneertaiu 

i-nii  oice,  concerning  Bran,  the  faviuritc  dot;  of  rinjjal,  i-,  perhaps, 
encofthc  moil  aJeain£^_irj£c:>  in  the  poem.    1  remember  to  have  ipet  w.tlj  .ia 


l6S  TEMORA:  Bo»l  VL 

ed  him  along  the  wind.  He  thought  that  the  blue  eyed 
hunter  fiept  ;  he  lay  upon  his  flueld.  No  blafi  came 
t>ver  the  heathy  unknown  ic  bounding  Bran. 

Cathmor  faw  tie  white- breafted  dog;  he  faw  the  , 
broken  ftiield.  Darknefsis  blown  back  en  his  foul ,  he 
renn  mbers  the  tailing  away  of  the  people.  "  They 
come,  a  fin  am,  are  rolled  away;  another  race  iuc- 
cecds.  But  iome  mark  the  fields,  as  they  pafs,  with 
their  own  mighty  names  '1  he  heath,  through  dark- 
brown  years,  is  theirs;  Pome  blue  ftream  winds  to  their 
fame.  Of  thefe  be  the  chief  of  Atha,  when  he  lays  him 
down  on  earth.  Often  may  the  voice  of  future  times 
meet  Cathmor  in  the  air:  when  he  llrides  from  wind 
to  wind,  or  folds  himfelf  in  the  wing  of  aftorm." 

Green  Erin  gathered  rouhd  ihe  king,  to  hear  the 
voice  of  his  power.  Their  joyful  faces  bend,  unequal, 
forward,  in  the  light  of  the  oak.  They  who  were  ter- 
rible were  removed  :  Lubar  f  wind 2  again  in  their  holt. 
Cathmor  was  that  beam  from  heave  n  which  flicne  when 
Lis  people  were  dark.  lie  was  honoured  in  the  midft. 
Their  louls  rofe  trembling  around.  The  king  alone 
110  gladnefs  fhewed;  no  itranger  he  to  war! 

old  ]>o  m,  compofed  lonpafte-    he  time  of  Offian,  wherein  a  llory  of  this  fortis- 


o  that  Lubar  winded  again  in  their  butt. 


«inu.  c  1  ;ic  ah.  da-k  Di:-cho» 
behold  h  m  lilent,  laid  amidft  the 
no  more  fh  11  lend  ihee  over  the 

r  to  1  iv  bi  fore  the  eader  the  fcene 
-  hi  '.in,.;  .1.  d  Lima  lay  the  plain 
r  The  firft  balle,  wherein  Gaul, 
n  fide,  wa<  fought  on  the  haul:-  of 
I,  on  either  fide,  the  armies,  after 

led, the  lrifh.  after  the  fall  of  Fol. 
in  the  coming  of  Cathmor  to  their 

c  back  the  Calcdoniam*  so 


Booh  VI.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  Ifir) 

M  Why  is  the  king  fo  fad  ?"  faid  Malthos  eagle-eyed; 
"  Remains  there  a  foe  at  Lubar  ?  Lives  there  among; 
them  who  can  lift  the  fnear  ?  Not  fo  peaceful  was  thy 
father,  Borbar-duthul  ||,  fovereign  of  fpears.  His  rage 
was  a  fire  that  always  burned  :  his  joy  over  fallen 
foes  was  great.  Three  days  feafted  the  gray-haired  he- 
ro, when  he  heard  that  Calmar  fell :  Calmar,  who 
aided  the  race  ofUllin,  from  Lara  of  the  ftreams.  Of- 
ten did  he  feel,  with  his  hands,  the  fteel  which,  Mey 
faid,  had  pierced  his  foe.  He  felt  it  with  his  hands,  for 
Borbar-d  ithul's  eyes  had  failed.  Yet  was  the  king  a  fun 
to  his  friends  ;  a  gale  to  lift  their  branches  round. 
Joy  was  around  him  in  his  halls  :  he  loved  the  fons  of 
Bolga.  His  name  remains  in  Atha,  like  the  awful  me- 
mory of  ghofts,  whofe  prefence  was  terrible,  but  they 
blew  the  iiorm  away.  Now  let  the  voices  f  of  Erin 
raife  the  foul  of  the  king  ;  he  that  mone  when  war 
was  dark,  and  laid  the  mighty  low.  Fonar,  from  that 
gray-browed  rock,  pour  the  tale  of  other  times  :  pour 
it  on  wide-ftirted  Erin,  as  it  fettles  round." 

"  To  me,"  faid  Cathmor,  "no  fong  mail   rife:  nor 
Fonar  fit  on  the  rock  of  Lubar.     The  mighty  there 
are  laid  low.     Difturb  not  their  rufhing  ghofts.     Far, 
Malthos,  far  remove  the  found  of  Erin's  fong.     I  re- 
joice not  over  the  foe,  when  he  ceafes  to  lift  the  fpear. 
With   morning  we  pour  our  ftresgth  abroad.     Fingal 
ned  on  his  echoing  hill." 
Like  waves,  blown  back  by  fudden  winds,  Erin  re- 
tired, at  the  voice  of  the  king.     Deep-rolled  into  the 
P  3 

I]  Borbar-duthul,  the  father  of  Cathmor,  was  the  brother  of  Hi  it  C  I  -i  '!  1,  who 

felaid,  in  the  beginning  of  tne  fourth  book,  to  have  ma    king 

of  Ireland.     Borbar-duthul  feems  to  have  retiined  all  the  pre1..  I  family 

■aaintt  the  fuccemon   of  the  porterity  of  Conar,  on  t  ua 

re  learn  fame  facta  which  tend  to  throw  light  on  t   e  hlftory  of    he 

times.     It  appear;,  that,  when  Swarun  in.-aded     relar.d.  he  «j 

the  Cael,  who  rniTeired  IK  ft  -r,  and  the  north  of  thai  ifiand.     CaU.iar,  !.ie  i-'ii  cf 

Matha,  who.'.-  „.ij  d.-a'a  a  •■■  reined  in  the  third  book  .>f  i'in -al, 

^ier  of  the  race  of  the  l'i-V!^  :h:u  joined  the  Cael,  or  lriih  C  .'   .     - 

he  invafion  of  3war3n.    The  ind  :centj ..-  -.-  bicb  Ur>rbar.duthul  cx- 

>  the  death  of  Calmar,  i^u-e' I  faired  with  -hat  fjirit  r,f  revenge,  whUla 

fubli.i  dj'jniverfally,  in   every   nKi.ur;  where  the   K 

It  would  appear  that  tome  perfon  h  d  c  rried  to  Borbar-duthul  vhat  weapon,  wiU* 
Which,  it  wa»  pretended,  Caluiar  had  been  killed. 

t  T te  Vvii«  of  Erin,'  a  poetical  e*>icSua  tor  the  bards  of  Irelnad, 


l?o  temorA:  Booh  FT* 

field  of  night,  they  fpread  their  humming  tribes  :  Be- 
neath his  own  tree,  at  intervals,  each  ||  bard  fat  down 
with  his  harp.  They  raifed  the  fong,  and  touched  the 
firing :  each  to  the  chief  he  loved.  Before  a  burning 
oak  Sul-malia  touched,  at  times,  the  harp.  She  touch- 
ed the  harp  and  heard,  between,  the  breezes  in  her  hair. 
In  darknefs  near,  lay  the  king  of  Atha,  beneath  an 
aged  tree.  The  beam  of  the  oak  was  turned  from  him, 
he  faw  the  maid,  but  was  not  fetn.  His  foul  poured 
forth,  In  fee  ret,  when  he  beheld  her  tearful  eye.  "  But 
battle  is  before  thee,  fon  of  Borbar  duthul." 

Amidft  the  harp,  at  intervals,  (he  liliened  whether 
the  warriors  flept.  Her  foul  was  up  ;  fhe  longed,  in 
fecret,  to  pour  her  own  fad  fong.  The  field  is  filent. 
On  their  wings,  the  blah's  of  n'ght  retire.  The  bards 
had  ceafed;  and  meteors  came,  red  winding  with  their 
ghofts.  The  iky  grew  dark :  the  forms  of  the  dead 
were  blended  with  the  clouds.  But  heedlefs  bends  the 
daughter  of  Con-mor,  over  the  decaying  flame.  Thou 
wert  alone  in  her  foul,  car-borne  chief  of  Atha.  She 
raifed  the  voice  of  the  fong,  and  touched  the  harp  be- 
tween. 

"  Clun-ga!o  f  came  ;  fhe  miffed  the  maid.    Where 

||  Not  only  the  kirgs,  but  every  petty  chief,  had  the'r  hards  attending  them,  in 
the  field,  mi  the  clay-.  ot  »Tii  m  :  and  thefe  hard-.,  in  pi  ..coition  Lo  .he  power  of  the 

foic-rnn  oiiafions,   all      he  hard;   in  tl.e    .rm\  ,    w.  11IJ   jom  in    c  v.  chorus;   either 


count  of  his  fuperior 

PC. in,  fi 

r  no. 

-try.     As  the  per. on- 

a:  red. 

offi( 

e  confiderable, 

became  v< 

it,     It  would   a 

ppear, 

- 

ti..n  of  C 

loUUantv. 

■ved  i 

n  the  double  c 

of  ba.d-.  and  clerg 

It  was  fr 

iar  they  had  th. 

bab!v,d- 

Ved  from  1 

Ci," 

cus.    The  Chi 

ilicnuifance;    for,  uki 

eir  la- 

ifter, '  hey 

n  great  bodies, 

in  the 

the  chiefs: 

till  am 

-ay  by 

were  dinl 

:of  f.-tire. 

r.d  li  ate  d  fpu 

batants  ai 

■e  Iv.nded  d 

own,  In 

how  m 

bulcd  the 

red  on 

the  order 

.uced  tl 

ere  no  longer  woi 

th\    .« 

t  u  r 

\tinguiihed  all  the 

cal  f'  wo. 

lr  which  d 

iflinptiiifhed  tl 

icir  predeceffor 

s,  and 

makes  us  the  lefs 

regret 

th    ex'-in 

ci  ion  of  the 

:  order. 

+  Clun- 

itc-knee, 

,'  the  wife  o 

lor,  kit 

ig  of  lnis-huna.  a 

f  ■  ul-t.'Hlla 

.     Shei* 

veprsfeated,  i 

is  miffing  her  daughter,  after  its 

fA  io*  wita  Catfcmer, 

Jfoj  VI.  AM  EPIC  POEM.  I7t 

art  thou,  beam  of  light  ?  Hunters  from  the  mofly  rock, 
faw  you  the  blue-eyed  fair  ?  Are  her  ftcps  on  grafiy 
Lumon  ;  near  the  bed  of  roes  ?  Ah  me  !  J  behold  her 
bow  in  the  hall.     Where  art  thou,  beam  of  light  ?" 

"  Ceafe  || ,  love  of  Con-mor,  ceafe ;  I  hear  thee  not 
on  the  ridgy  heath.  My  eye  is  turned  to  the  king, 
whofe  path  is  terrible  in  war.  He  for  whom  my  foul 
is  up,  in  the  feafcn  of  my  reft.  Deep -bofomed  in  war 
he  rands,  he  beholds  me  not  from  his  cloud.  Why, 
fun  of  Sul-malla,  doft  thou  not  look  forth  ?  I  dwell  in 
darknefs  here :  wide  over  me  flies  the  fhadowy  mift. 
Filled  with  dew  are  mv  lorks :  look  thou  from  thy 
cloud,  O  fun  of  Sul-malla's  foul !"    ***** 

II  ul-matla  replies  to  the  fuppofed  queftions  of  her  mother.  Towards  the 
Buddie  of  this  par  graph  Ihe  calls  Catfc  :.orthe  fun  of  hjr  fuu!,  and  continues  t.:« 
metaphor  throughout.  This  hook  ends,  we  may  fuppufe,  ibout  Uic  miuule  of  titc 
kird  nigtt,  from  tiic  opeaine  of,  the  p jvta.        r 


m^m 


T  E  M  O  R  A: 


EPIC    POEM. 

THE  ARGUMENT. 

Tbisbook  begins  about  the  middle  of  the  third  night  from  the  opening  of  the  po- 
em. The  poet  dcfcribes  a  kind  of  mitt,  which  n.u  .  by  night,  t'r.m  the  lake  of 
Lego,  and  was  the  ufual  lefidence  of  the  fouls  of  the  dead,  during  the  interval 
between  their  deceafe  and  the  funeral  fong.  T>.e  appearance  of  the  ghoft  of 
Filtan  above  the  cave  «  here  his  body  lav.  Kis  voice  comes  to  Fingal,  on  the 
rock  of  Cormul.  The  kingltrikes  the  fhield  of  Trenninr,  which  was  an  infaiiitle 
fign  of  bis  appealing  in  arms  himfelf.  The  extraordinary  effect  of  the  found 
of  the  fhield.  Sul-malla,  ftartingfrom  fleep,  awakes  Cathmor.  Their  ;  fitting 
difcourfe.  She  infill*  w.th  him,  to  fue  for  peace  ;  he  refolves  to  continue  the 
war.  He  directs  her  to  retire  to  the  neighbouring  valley  of  I.ona,  which  was 
the  rettdencc  of  an  old  druid,  until  the  battle  of  the  next  &.-<■  fhould  be  over. 
He  awakes  hi  army  with  the  found  of  hisflvie  d.  The  fhield  defcriheri.  Funar, 
the  bard,  at  the  def-.re  of  Cathmor,  relates  the  firft  fettlement  of  the  Firboig  i« 
Ireland,  under  their  leader  Larthon.  Morning  comes.  Sul-mallu  retires  to  the 
valley  of  Lona.    A  lyric  fong  concludes  the  book. 

BOOK  VII. 

From  the  wood-lkirted  waters  of  Lego,  afeend,  at 
times,  gray-bofomed  mifts,  when  the  gates  of  the 
well  are  clofed  on  the  fun's  eagle  eye.  Wide,  over 
Lara's  ftream,  is  poured  the  vapour  dark  and  deep  :  the 
moon,  like  a  dim  fhield,  is  fwimming  through  its  folds. 
With  this,  clothe  the  fpiritsof  old  their  fudden  geftures 
on  the  wind,  when  they  firide,  from  blaft  to  blaft,  a- 
long  the  dufky  face  of  the  night.  Often  blended  with 
the  s;ale,  to  fome  warrior's  grave  +  they  roll  the  milt, 
a  gray  dwelling  to  his  ghoft,  until  the  fongs  arife. 

A  found  came  from  the  defert  ;  the  rufhing  courfe 
of  Conar  in  winds.    He  poured  his  deep  mift  on  Fil- 

t  As  the  mift.  which  rofe  from  the  lake  of  Lego,occafioned  difeafes  and  death, 
the  bards  feigned,  as  here,  that  i  was  the  refidence  of  the  ghoils  ot  the  deceafed, 
during  the  interval  between  their  death  and  'He  pi ;  n.i.ruiny  o-  the  funeral  elegy 
over  their  tombs;  for  it  \.  a-  not  allow:  ble  without  that  rrU:r.ony  was  performed, 
for  the  fpirits  of  the  dead  to  mix  with  their  anceltors,  in  their  airy  halls  It  was 
the  bufinefs  of  the  fpirit  of  the  nearelt  relation  :o  the  deceaftd,  to  take  th.  mift  of 
Lego,  and  pour  it  over  the  grave  We  find  here  Conar,  the  fon  of  Trenir.cr,  the 
firlt  king  of  Ireland,  according  to  Ofhan,  performing  this  office  for  Fiilitn,  a*  U 
was  in  the  taufe  of  Uie  family  of  Conar,  taut  taa;  hero  was  killed, 


Jlooh  VII.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  I75 

Ian,  at  blue-winding  Lubar.  Dark  and  mournful  fat 
the  ghoft,  bending  in  his  gray  ridge  of  fmoke.  The 
blafl;  at  times,  rolled  him  together:  but  the  lovely  form 
returned  again.  It  returned  with  flow-bending  eyes: 
and  dark  winding  01  locks  of  mill. 

It  was  t  dark.  The  fleeping  hoft  were  flill,  in  the 
fkirts  of  night.  The  flame  decayed,  on  the  hill  of  lin- 
gal ;  the  king  lay  lonely  on  his  fhieid.  His  eyes  were 
half  clofed  in  fleep ;  the  voice  of  Fillan  came.  "  Sleeps 
the  hufband  of  Clatho  ?  Dwells  the  father  of  the  fal- 
len in  reft  ?  Am  I  forgot  in  the  folds  of  darknefs ;  lone- 
ly in  the  fcalon  of  dreams  ?" 

"  Why  art  thou  in  the  midft  of  my  dreams,"  faid 
Fingal,  "  as,  fudden,  he  ro  e  ?  Can  1  forget  thee,  my 
fon,  or  thy  path  of  fire  in  the  field  ?  Not  fuch,  on  the 
foul  of  the  king,  ccme  the  deeds  of  the  mighty  in  arms. 
They  are  not  there  a  beam  of  lightning,  which  is 
feen,  and  is  then  no  more.  I  remember  thee,  O  Fil- 
lan !   and  my  wrath  begins  to  rife." 

The  king  took  his  deathful  fpear,  and  ftruck  the 
deeply-founding  fhield :  his  fhield  that  hung  high  on 
night,  the  diimal  fign  of  war  !  Ghofts  fled  on  every 
fiue,  and  rolled  their  gathered  forms  on  the  wind. 
Thrice  from  the  winding  vale  arofe  the  voice  of  deaths. 
The  harps  ||  cf  the  bards,  untouched,  found  mourn- 
ful over  the  hill. 

t  The  nigh'-defcriptio.ns  of  Oflian  were  in  high  repute  among  fucceeding  bards. 
One  of  them  del: ver--d  a  lcntinient,  in  adiilich,  more  favourable  to  his  talte  for 
poetry,  than  to  his  gallantry  towards  the  ladies.  1  iball  here  give  a  tranilatioa 
of  it. 

"  More  plcafant  to  me.  is  he  night  of  Cona,  dark-Ureaming  from  Oman's  harp^ 
more  plcafant  it  is  to  me,  than  a  white-b  ifomed  dweller  between  my  arms:  than 
a  fair-h;..  ded  daugru"  of  heroes,  in  thi:  hour  of  reit  " 

Though  t  aduion  is  n.it  >e; '  ia.ista.  tory  concerning  the  h'ftory  of  this  poet,  it 
has  taken  cafe  to  inform  us,  that  he  was  \cr,  old  wntn  he  «  rote  :he  diltkh.  He 
lived  [in  u  hat  age  is  uncertain)  in  one  of  the  wcliern  ifle>,  and  his  name  was  fur- 
lochCiabh-  Las,  or     urloch  of  tne  gray  locks. 

||  it  was  the  opinion  .it  the  time;,  thai,  on  the  night  preceding  the  death  of  a 
perfjn  worthy  and  renown,  d,  ttie  harps  of  lliofe  bards,  who  were  retained  by  his 
family,  milled  melanchnlv  founds  This  was  attributed,  to  uie  Ofiian's  exprcf- 
e  Lighl  touch  of  gholt  :  who  were  fuppofed  to  have  a  fore-know  ledgs 
cf  events  Th.-  fame  opinion  prevailed  long  in  the  north,  and  the  particular  found 
was  called,  ihe  warning  >.  o'ueoi  th;  d>.ad  i  he  voice  ut  dea.hs,  mentioned  in  the 
preceding  lentener,  w  s  or  a  different  kind.  Each  perfo.i  was  fuppofed  to  have  an 
attendant f pint,  who  affumed  hi.,  form  and  voice,  on  the  night  prceeding  hie 
death,  and  appeired  o  fome,  in  t!\e  at  itude,  in  which  the  perfou  was  to  aie» 
Tka  1  uiccs  at  death  were  the  foreboding  fliriefcs  of.  thufc  fnirits. 


174  temora:  Hook  FIT. 

He  ftruck  again  the  fhield:  battles  rofe  in  the  dreams 
of  his  heft.  The  wide-tumbling  ftrife  is  gleaming  o- 
ver  their  fouls.  Biuefhielded  kings  defcend  to  war. 
Backward-looking  armies  fly  ;  and  mighty  deeds  are 
half-hid,  in  the  bright  gleams  of  fteel. 

But  when  the  third  found  arofe ;  deer  ftarted  from 
the  clifts  of  their  rocks.  The  fcrearrjs  of  fowl  are 
heard,  in  the  defert,  as  each  fltw,  frighted,  on  his  blaft. 
The  fons  of  Albion  half-rofe,  and  half-aflurned  their 
fpears.  But  filence  rolled  back  on  the  hoft :  they 
knev.r  the  fhield  of  the  king.  Sleep  returned  to  their 
eyes  :  the  field  was  dark  andftill. 

No  fieep  was  thine  in  darknefs,  blue-eyed  daughter 
of  Cen-mor  !  Sul  malla  heard  the  dreadful  fhield  and 
rofe,  amidft  the  night.  Her  fleps  are  towards  the  king 
of  Atha.  "  Can  danger  fhake  his  daring  foul !"  In 
doubt,  (he  ftands,  with  bending  eyes.  Heaven  burns 
with  all  its  ftars. 

Again  the  fhield  refounds  !  She  rufhed.  She  ftopt. 
Her  voice  half-rofe.  It  failed.  She  faw  him,  amidft 
his  arms,  that  gleamed  to  heaven's  fire.  She  faw  him 
dim  in  his  locks,  that  rofe  to  nightly  wind.  Away,  for 
fear,  fhe  turned  her  fteps.  "  Why  fbould  the  king  of 
Erin  awake  ?  Thou  art  not  a  dream  to  his  reft,  daughter 
of  Inis-huna." 

More  dreadful  rung  the  fhield.  Sul  malla  ftarts. 
Her  helmet  falls.  Loud-echoed  Lubar's  rock,  as  over 
it  roiled  the  fteel.  Burfting  from  the  dreams  of  night, 
Cathmcr  half-rofe,  beneath  his  tree.  He  faw  the  form 
of  the  maid,  above  him,  on  the  rock.  A  red  ftar  with 
twinkling  beam,  looked  down  through  her  floating 
hair. 

"  Who  comes  through  night  to  Cathmor,  in  the  dark 
feafon  of  his  dreams  ?  Bringc-ft  thou  ought  of  war  ? 
Who  art  thou,  fon  of  night  ?  Standeft  thou  before  me, 
a  form  of  the  times  of  old  ?  A  voice  from  the  fold  of  a 
cloud,  to  warn  me  of  Erin's  danger  ?" 

"  Nor  traveller  of  night  am  I,  nor  voice  from  fold- 
ed cloud:  but  I  warn  thee  of  the  danger  of  Erin.    Dolt 


Book  VII.  AN'    EPIC    POEM.  1 je 

thou  hear  that  found  ?  It  is  not  the  feeble,  king  of  A- 
tha,  that  rolls  his  figns  on  night." 

"  Let  the  warrior  roll  his  figns  ;  to  Cathmor  they 
arc  the  found  of  harps.  My  joy  is  great,  voice  ofnight> 
and  bums  over  all  my  thoughts.  This  is  the  mufic  of 
kings,  on  lonely  hills,  by  night ;  when  they  light  their 
daring  fouls,  the  ions  of  mighty  deeds  !  The  feeble 
dwell  alone,  in  the  valley  of  the  breeze  ;  where  milfs 
lift  their  morning  fkirts,  from,  the  blue-winding 
Creams." 

"  Not  feeble,  thou  leader  of  heroes,  were  they,  the 
fathers  of  my  race.  They  dwelt  in  the  darknefs  of 
baitle  :  in  their  diftant  lands.  Yet  delights  not  my 
foul,  in  the  figns  of  death  !  He  f,  who  never  yields, 
comes  forth  :  Awake  the  bard  of  peace  !" 

Like  a  rock  with  its  trickling  waters,  ftood  Cathmor 
in  his  tears.  Her  voice  came,  a  breeze,  on  his  foul,  and 
waked  the  memory  of  her  land  ,  where  fhe  dwelt  by 
her  peaceful  flreams,  before  he  came  to  the  war  of 
Con-mor. 

"  Daughter  of  ftrangers,"  he  faid  ;  (me  trembling 
'  away)  l>  long  have  I  marked  in  her  armour,  the 
•:  Inis-huna.     But  my   foul,  I  faid,  is  fold- 
dorm.     Why  fhould  that  beam  arife,   till  my 
fteps  return    in   peace  ?  Hrwe  i  been  pale  in  thy  ore- 
fence,  when  thou  bidft  me  to  fear  the  king  ?  The  time 
. ;er,  O  maid,  is  the  feafon  of  my  foul ;  for  then 
it  iwells,  a  mighty  ftream,  and  rolls  me  on  the  foe." 

u  Beneath  the  mofs-covered  rock  of  Lona,  near  his 

hiding  ftream  :  gray  in  his  locks  of  age,  dwells 

Cbimial  |j  king  of  harps.     Above  him  is  his  echoing 

;-:  (lid  to  have  never  been  overcome  in  battle.    From  th's  proceeded 

'.  .I'm-  -;-;.:-.a  isaU  ■>",  iuitow.r!  <>n  him  H  trar>i:ii>n,  '  1mo,i-i:>.h1  »a 

I   rit-..'    Id  a  poem,  juilnowinmy  hands,  which  eel     .    ces 

i  .  great  actions  of  Arthur  the  famous  Britifh  hero,  thi'  -v;_lla:i.m  ;s 

ij  011  him.     The  pojm,  I'rom  the  phrafeology,  appears  to  bs  ancient; 

an  ;  is,  perhaps,  (.hoagh  that  is  no*,  meatioacd,  a  tranflalion  from  the  WeKhlan-. 

giage- 

•  :-.ed  eye-brow.'    Prom  the  retired  life  of  this  perfon,  it  ap- 
p-H-sth.u  '                                 <t  the  draids;   which  rappoiitiort  is  uot,  at  all,  ia- 
•  ed  on  Liui ;  fot  .ill 

.  .... ...    


Ij6  TEMORA:  Bool  VIT. 

oak,  and  the  dun  bounding  of  roes.  The  noife  of  our 
ftrife  reaches  his  ear,  as  he  bends  in  the  thoughts  of 
years.  There  let  thy  reft  be,  Sul  malla,  until  our  bat- 
tle ceafe.  Until  I  return,  in  my  arms,  from  the  fkirts 
of  the  evening  mift  that  rifes,  on  Lona,  round  the  dwel- 
ling of  my  love." 

A  light  fell  on  the  foul  of  the  maid  ;  it  rofe  kindled 
before  the  king.  She  turned  her  face  to  Cathmor  ;  her 
locks  are  ftruggling  with  winds.  "  Sooner  fhall  the 
eagle  of  heaven  be  torn,  from  the  ftreams  of  his  roaring 
wind,  when  he  fees  the  dun  prey  before  him,  the  young 
fons  of  the  bounding  roe,  than  thou,  O  Cathmor,  be 
turned  from  the  ftrife  of  renown.  Soon  may  I  fee  thee, 
warrior,  from  theikirts  of  the  evening  mift,  when  it  is  rol- 
led around  me,  on  Lona  of  the  ftreams.  While  yet  thou 
art  diftant  far,  flrike,  Cathmor,  ftrike  the  fhield,  that 
joy  may  return  to  my  darkened  foul,  as  I  lean  on  the 
meffy  reck.  But  if  thou  fhould  fall — I  am  in  the  land  of 
ftrangers ;  O  fend  thy  voice,  from  thy  cloud,  to  the 
maid  of  Inis-huna." 

"  Young  branch  of  green  headed  Lumon,  why  doft 
thou  fhake  in  theftorm?  Often  has  Cathmor  returned, 
from  darkly-rolling  wars.  The  darts  of  death  are  but 
hail  to  me ;  they  have  often  bounded  from  my  fhield. 
I  have  rifen  brightened  from  battle,  like  a  meteor  from 
a  ftormy  cloud.  Return  not,  fair  beam,  from  thy  vale, 
when  the  roar  of  battle  grows.  Then  might  the  foe 
efcape,  as  from  my  fathers  of  old. 

"  They  told  to  Son-mor  f,  of  Clunar  ]|,  fla>n  by  Cor- 
mac  the  giver  of  {hells.  Three  days  darkened  Son  mor, 
over  his  brother's  fall.  His  fpoufe  beheld  the  filent  king, 
and  forefaw  his  fteps  to  war.  She  prepared  the  bow, 
in  fecret,  to  attend  her  blue  fhielded  hero.  To  her 
dwelt  darknefs  at  Atha,  when  the  warrior  moved  to 
his  fields.    From  their  hundred  ftreams,  by  night,  pour- 

+  Son-mor,  «  tnll  handfome  man.'  lie  was  the  father  of  Borbar-duthul,  chief 
•r  Atha,  and  grandfather  to  Cathmor  himfelf. 

||  Cluiin-er,  'nun  of  he  rield  '  This  chief  was  killed  in  hat;  It- by  Conine  Mac-, 
Conar,  king  of  Ireland,  the  father  of  Ros-wana,  (lie  firtt  wife  gf  ffiigaj,  TUe  Itoj 
sy  is  alluded  Ui  in  other  poem*. 


$««i  VII.  AN  EPIC  POF.M.  177 

cd  down  the  fbns  of  Alhecma.     They^ad  heard  the 

Ihield  of  the  ki 

arms,  they  moved  along,  towards  Uiiin  the   lar.cl  of 

groves.     Son-mor  ilruck  his  Ihield,  at  tin  . 

of  the  war. 

*;  Far  behind  followed  Sul  akin  *",  ever  the  fl 
hills.     She  Avas  a  light   on  the  mountaii 
crcfled  the  vale  below.     Her 
vale,  when  they  rofe  on  the  men; 
approach  the  king,  who  left  But 

when  the  rear  of  battle  rofe  ;  wh<  n  hofl  v 
hoft  ;    when  Sen  mpr  riant  like  t  aven  la 

clouds,  with  her  fpreading  hair  can  :"or  foe 

trembled   for  her  king.     He  ftcpt  the  rufhing    ftrife 
tc  fave  the  love  of  heroes.    The  foe  ficd  bv  night ; 
Bept  without  his.blood ;  the  blood  which  ought 
to  be  poured  upon  the  warrior's  tomb. 

"  Nor  rofe  the  rage  of  Son-mor,  but  his  days  were 
dark  and  Cow.  Sul-ailin  wandered,  by  her  gray  itreams, 
with  her  tearful  eves.  Often  did  fee  look,  on  the  hero, 
when  he  was  folded  in  his  .      Utit  file  fhrunfc 

from  his  eyes,  and  turned  h<  Battles 

rofe  like  a  tempeft,  and  drove  the  mift  from  his  foul. 
He  beheld,  with  joy,  her  ftepa  in  the  hall,  and  the  white 
filing  of  her  hands  on  the  harp.'' 

Inf  his  arms  ftrode  the  chief  of  Atha,  to  where  his 
Shield  hung,  high,  in  night:  high  on  a  molTy  bough, 
over  Lubar's  ftreamy  roar.  Seven  boffes  rofe  on  the 
ihield  ;  the  feven  voices  of  the  king,  which  his  warriors 
d,  from  the  wind,  and  marked  over  all  their 
tribes. 

On  each  bofs  is  placed  a  ftar  of  night ;  Can-mathon 

VoLII.  k>_ 

■ 

'  \>i  of  tiie  Bimei 

<  •   ..■  b?;:r.    Cii'-iicri  :i, 

•v.   of   t!.S 

ta,  '  m.i-  ..-  .  cepting tbat  Of Ceac 

■  . 


178  TEMORA:  Book  FIT. 

with  beams  unfliorn  :  Col-derna  rifing  from  a  cloud : 
Uloicho  robed  in  mift ;  and  the  foft  beam  of  Cathlin 
glittering  on  a  rock.  Fair-gleaming,  on  its  own  blue 
wave,  Reldurath  half-finks  its  weftern  light.  The  red 
eye  of  Berthin  looks,  through  a  grove,  on  the  flow-mov- 
ing hunter,  as  he  returns  through  fhowery  night,  with 
the  fpoils  of  the  bounding  roe.  Wide  in  the  midft,  a- 
rofe  the  cloudlefs  beams  of  Ton-thena ;  Ton-the- 
na,  which  looked,  by  night,  on  the  courfe  of  the  fea-tof- 
fed  Larthon :  Larthon,  the  firlt  of  Bolga's  race,  "who 
travelled  on  the  winds  f.  White-bofomed  fpread  the 
fails  of  the  king,  towards  ftreamy  Inis-fail ;  dun  night 
■was  rolled  before  him,  with  its  Ikirts  of  mift.  The 
winds  were  changeful  in  heaven,  and  rolled  him  from 
■wave  to  wave.  Then  rofe  the  fiery-haired  Ton-thcna, 
and  laughed  from  her  parted  cloud.  Larthon  ||  rejoic- 
ed at  the  guiding  beam,  as  it  faint-gleamed  on  the  tum- 
bling waters. 

Beneath  the  fpear  of  Cathmor,  awaked  that  voice 
■which  awakes  the  bards.  They  came,  dark-winding, 
from  every  fide  ;  each  with  the  found  of  his  harp.  Be- 
fore them  rejoiced  the  king,  as  the  traveller,  in  the  day 
of  the  fun,  when  he  hears,  far  rolling  around,  the  mur- 
mur of  mofly  ftreams  ;  ftreams  that  burft  in  the  defert, 
from  the  rock  of  roes. 


f  To  travel  on  the  winds,  a  poetical  expreflion  for  failing. 

|i  Larthon  i-,  compounded  ot  I. ear, 'fea,' 

and  thon,  'wave.'  This  name  was  givem 

to  the  chief  of  the  aril  colony  of  the  Firb 

olg,  who  fettled   in  Ireland,  on  account 

of  his  knowledge  in  navigation.     A  part 

fan   old  poem  is  Kill  extant,  concern- 

,  took  the  hint  from  the  epifode  in  this 

book.relati.ctd  the  lii  ".  ,'i;i  .-..  .:  •>•:  n.-i 

■  :.d  by  Larthon      It  abounds  with  thnl'e 

hies  of  giants  ;.:-d  ma.ricians,  i 

hich  dillinguifh  the  compontions  oi  the 

let,  ancient  h.rds.     '1'he  def.    :    : 

lined  in  it,  are  ingenious  and  propor- 

tioii.:hle  to  the  magnitude  of  the  |.vim  s 

ltrcduccd;    hut,  being  unnatural,  tlief. 

t  within  the  bounds  of  probability,   his 

genius  was  far  from  being  contemptible. 

The  exordium  ot  his  poem  is  not  delti- 

tote  of  merit ;   but  it  is  the  only  part  of  it, 

that  1  think  worthy  of  being  preferred 

"  Who  firft  fent  the  black  (hip  through 

ocean,  like  a  whale  through  the  burft- 

ingof  foon>    Look,  trom  thy    darkr,el\,    , 

n  Cronath,  Oman  of  the  harps  of  eld  ! 

Sendthv  light  or.  the  bio.  -rolling  waters, 

that  1  may  behold  the  king      1  fee  hiia 

dark  .1    his   j-.cn  fhell  oi  o.:k  !    feu-tofftd  I. 

arthon,  thy  foul  is  fire.     It  is  carelefs  as 

e  filentgi 

is  before  thee,  with  its  f.ms,  who  are  tall  as  woody  [.union  ;    Luiron,  which  fends 
froui  it-  top,  a  thoufand  dreams,  white. w  anderingdown  its  fides." 

It  may,nerh?ps,  he  for  the  credit  of  this  hard,  to  Lranfiate  no  more  of  tins  poem, 
for  the  continuation  u[  0.U  defcriptioa  oi  tUc  into  giants  betrays  Uis  want  of  judg- 
sn&ut. 


Jfooi  T'lT.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  I7J 

"Why,"  faid  Fonar,  "hear  we  the  voice  of  the  king-, 
in  the  feafon  of  his  reft  ?  Were  the  dim  forms  of  thy 
fathers  bending  in  thy  dreams  ?  Perhaps  they  ftand  on 
that  cloud,  and  wait  for  Fonar's  fong  ;  often  they  come 
to  the  fields  where  their  fons  are  to  lift  the  fpear.  Or 
fha.ll  our  voice  arife  for  him  who  lifts  the  fpear  no 
more  ;  he  that  confumed  the  field,  from  Moraa  of  the 
groves  ?" 

"  Not  forgot  is  that  cloud  in  war,  bard  of  other  times. 
High  (hall  his  tomb  rife,  on  Moi-lena,  the  dwelling  of 
renown.  But,  now,  roll  back  my  foul  to  the  times  of 
my  fathers  :  to  the  years  when  firft  they  rofe,  on  Inis- 
huna's  waves.  Nor  alone  pleafant  to  Cathmor  is  the 
remembrance  of  wood-covered  Lumon.  Lumon  the 
land  offtreams,  the  dwelling  of  white  bofomed  maids." 

"  Lumon  f  of  foamy  ftreams,  thou  rifeft  on  Fonar's 
foul !  Thy  fun  is  on  thy  fide,  on  the  rocks  of  thy  bend- 
ing trees.  The  dun  roe  is  feen  from  thy  furze  :  the 
deer  lifts  his  branchy  head ;  for  he  fees,  at  times,  the 
hound,  on  the  half -covered  heath.  Slow,  on  the  vale, 
are  the  fleps  of  maids  ;  the  white -armed  daughters  of 
the  bow :  they  lift  their  blue  eyes  to  the  hill,  from  a- 
midft  their  wandering  locks.  Not  there  is  the  ftride  of 
Larthon,  chief  of  Inis  huna.  He  mounts  the  wave  on 
his  own  dark  oak,  in  Cluba's  ridgy  bay.  That  oak 
which  he  cut  from  Lumon,  to  bound  along  the  lea. 
The  maids  turn  their  eyes  away,  left  the  king  mould 
be  lowly  laid  ;  for  never  had  they  feen  a  (hip,  dark  rid- 
er of  the  wave  ! 

"  Now  he  dares  to  call  the  winds,  and  to  mix  with 
the  mift  of  ocean.  Blue  Inis  fail  rofe,  in  fmoke:  but 
dark-fkirted  night  came  down.  The  fons  of  Bolga  fear- 
ed. The  fiery-haired  Ton-thena  role.  Culbin's  bay 
received  the  (hip,  in  the  bofom  of  its  echoing  woods. 
There,  iflued  a  ftream,  from  Duthuma's  horrid  cave  ; 
where  fpirits  gleamed,  at  times,  with  their  half-fmiftied 
forms.  ■  Q^2 

t  Lumon,  as  I  have  remarked  in  a  preceding  note,  was  a  hill  in  Inis-huna,  near 
the  refiiiencjol'iul-malla.  This  epifude  has  an  immediate  connection  with  wkat 
u  raid  «i  LarU.on,  in  the  <Jefcriptiu«  of  Cuthmor'k  (kiel*. 


I?0  TEMORA:  Bool  VTT. 

"  Dreams  defcended  on  Larthon :  he  faw  feven  fpi- 
rits  of  his  fathers.  lie  heard  their  half-formed  words, 
and  dimly  beheld  the  times  to  come.  He  beheld  the 
king  of  Atha,  the  fons  of  future  days.  They  led 
their  hofts,  along  the  field,  like  ridges  of  miff.,  which 
winds  pom-,  in  autumn,  over  Atha  of  the  groves. 

"  Larthon  railed  the  hali  of  Samlaf,  to  the  foft  found 
of  the  harp.  He  went  forth  to  the  roes  of  Erin,  to  their 
wonted  ftreams.  Nor  did  he  forget  green-headed  Lu- 
mon  ;  he  often  bounded  over  his  leas,  to  where  white- 
handed  Flathal  |j  looked  from  the  hill  of  roes.  Lurnon 
of  the  foamy  ftreams,  thou  rifeft  on  Fonar's  foul." 

The  beam  awaked  in  the  eafl.  The  mifly  heads  of 
the  mountains  rofe.  Valleys  mew,  on  every  fide,  the 
gray-winding  of  their  ftreams.  His  hoft  heard  the 
mield  of  Cathmor  :  at  once  they  rofe  around  ;  like  a 
crowded  fea,  when  firft  it  feels  the  wings  of  the  wind. 
The  waves  know  not  whither  to  roll ;  they  lift  their 
troubled  heads. 

Sad  and  flow  retired  Sul-tnalla  to  Lona  of  the  ftreams. 
She  went  and  often  turned :  her  blue  eyes  rolled  in 
tears.  But  when  file  came  to  the  rock,  that  darkly  co- 
vered Lena's  vale :  fhe  looked,  from  her  burfting  foul, 
on  the  king  ;  and  funk,  at  once,  behind. 

Son  *§  of  Alpin,  ftrike  the  fixing.  Is  there  aught  of 
joy  in  the  harp  ?  Pour  it  then,  on  the  foul  of  Offian  ; 
it  is  folded  in  mift.  I  hear  thee,  O  bard  !  in  my  night. 
But  ceafe  the  lightly-trembling  found.  The  joy  of 
grief  belongs  to  Oman,  amidft  his  dark  brown -years. 

Green  thorn  of  the  hill  of  ghofts,  that  fhakeft  thy 
head  to  nightly  winds  !  I  hear  no  found  in  thee ;  is 
there  no  fpirit's  windy  fkirt  now  ruffling  in  thy  leaves  ? 
Often  are  the  fteps  of  the  dead,  in  the  dark-eddying 
blafts ;  when  the  moon,  a  dun  fhield,  from  the  eait,  is 
rolled  along  the  Iky. 

t  Samla,  '  apparitions,'  10  called  from  the  vifion  of  Larthon,  concerning  his  po- 
Serity. 

1,  '  i  e,v  cnlv.  e*y  i,;     :•,     •     .-\:,['       he ■  \vi-~  the  v.  -ifc  of  Larthon. 

"  ,  f  the  poem. 

The  ham  ,,1-y  and  .:        .  ,  knowledge  of  mufic 

wjuteufiderably  advance*  ia  the  da>  i  »i  Offiaa.    Spe  ths  tftflcHwn  of  tit*  onsiittk. 


Bool  FIT.  AN  EPIC  POEM.  iSl 

Ullin,  Carril,  and  Ryno,  voices  of  the  days  of  old  ! 
Let  me  hear  you,  in  the  darknefs  of  Selma,  and  awake 
the  foul  of  fongs.  I  hear  you  not,  ye  children  of  nm- 
fic  ;  in  what  hall  of  the  clouds  is  ycur  reft  ?  Do  you 
touch  the  fliadowy  harp,  robed  with  morning  mift, 
where  the  fun  comes  founding  forth  from  his  greeu- 
keaded  waves  ? 


<l» 


TEMORA: 


EPIC   POEM. 

THE  ARGUMENT. 
Tie  fourth  morning,  from  the  opening  of  the  poem,  comes  on.  Fir.gal,  ftill  con* 
tinuing.  in  the  place  to  v.-tith  he  had  retired  on  the  preceding  night,  is  feen  at 
intervals,  through  the  mil*,  which  cove'. -d  the  rock  of  Cormul.  The  defcent 
*  ofthekinc  is  delVrihcd  He  order-  .Oat:!-  Oirrr.id,  and  Carri!  the  bard,  to  go  to 
the  valley  of  China,  and  conduct,  from  Cfcence,  to  the  Caledonian  army,  Ferad- 
an.hr.,  ;befon  of  Cairbar,  the  only  perfon  remaining  of  the  family  ofConar,the 
firfl  king  of  Ireland.  I  he  kin<;  takes  the  command  of  the  army,  and  prepare* 
for  battle.     Va:cl  ::      ,iie  comes  to  the  cave  of  Lubar,  where 


the  b. 


'■  TxiVrbed. 
tali 
i  I  Luter.  Their  atti. 
'aiiimor.  Fingi  refigns 
exved  on  that  cccaQcn. 
y  ofLona.  Her  forrow. 
it  Ferad-artho  is  anm  un- 
with  a  fpeech  of  Fuigal, 


BOOK  VIII. 

A  s  when  the  wintry  winds  have  feized  the  waves  of 
"**■  the  mountain-lake,  have  feized  them,  in  fiormy 
night,  and  clothed  them  over  with  ice  ;  white  to  the 
hunter's  early  eye,  the  billows  fall  feem  to  roll.  He 
turns  his  ear  to  the  found  of  each  unequal  ridge.  But 
each  is  filent,  gleaming,  flrewn  with  boughs  and  tufts 
of  grafs,  which  fhake  and  whiffle  to  the  wind,  o- 
ver  their  gray  feats  of  froft.  So  filent  fhone  to  the 
morning  the  ridges  of  Morven's  heft,  as  each  war- 
rior looked  up  from  his  helmet  towards  the  hill  of  the 
king ;  the  cloud-covered  hill  of  Fingal,  where  he  firode,  I 
in  the  rolling  of  mifl.  At  times  is  the  hero  Teen,  great- 
ly  dim  in  all  his  arms.  From  thought  to  thought  rol- 
led  the  war,  alone-  his  mighty  foul. 

Now  is  the  coming  forth  of  the  king.     Firft  appear- 
ed the  fwurd  of  Luno  j  the  fpear  half-ifluing  from  ^    '| 


JM  VJJT.  AS  EPIC  POEM.  *$3 

she  fhie'd  full  dim  in  mi  ft.  But  when  the  ftridc 
of  the  king  came  abroad,  with  all  his  gray,  dewy  locks 
in  th.e  wind;  then  role  the  fhouts  of  his  holt  over  every 
moving  tribe.  They  gathered,  gleaming,  round,  with 
all  their  echoing  fhields.  So  rife  the  green  feas  round  a 
fpirit,  that  comes  down  from  the  fqually  wind.  The 
traveller  hears  the  found  afar,  and  lifts  his  head  over 
the  reck.  He  looks  on  the  troubled  bay,  and  thinks  he 
fees  the  form.  The  waves  fport,  unwieldy, 
round,  with  all  their  backs  of  foam. 

Far-diftaat  ftood  the  fon  of  Morni,  Duthno's  race, 
and  Cona's  bard.  We  ftood  far-difiant;  each  beneath 
hi?  tree.  We  fhunned  the  eves  of  the  king ;  we  had  not 
conquered  in  the  field.  A  little  ftream  rolled  at  my 
feet:  I  touched  its  light  wave,  with  my  fpear.  I  touch- 
ed it  with  my  fpear  ;  nor  there  was  the  foul  of  Om- 
an. It  darkly  role,  from  thought  to  thought,  and  lent  a- 
broad  the  figh. 

"  Son  of  Morni  !"  faid  the  king,  "  Dermid,  hunter 
of  roes  !  why  are  ye  dark,  like  two  rocks,  each  with  its 
trickling  waters?  No  wrath  gathers  on  the  foul  of  Fin- 
gal,  againft  the  chiefs  of  men.  Ye  are  my  ftrength  in 
battle ;  the  kindling  of  my  joy  in  peace.  Mv  early 
voice  was  a  pleafant  gale  to  your  ears,  when  Fillan  pre- 
pared the  bow.  The  fon  of  Fingal  is  not  here,  nor  yet 
the  chace  of  the  bounding  roes.  But  why  fnould  the 
breakers  of  fhields  ftand,  darkened,  far  away  ?" 

Tail  they  ftrode  towards  the  king  ;  they  faw  him 

turned  to  Mora's  wind.     His  tears  came  down,  for  his 

ed  fon,  who  flept  in  the  cave  of  ftreams.     Bat  he 

led  before  them,  and  fpoke  to  the  broad-fhicld- 

ed  kings. 

"  Crommal,  with  woody  rocks,  and  mifty  top,  the 
field  of  winds,  pours  forth,  to  the  light,  blue  L'ubar's 
ftreamy  roar.  Behind  it  rolls  clear-winding  Lavath, 
in  the  ftill  vale  of  deer.  A  cave  is  dark  in  a  rock;  a- 
beve  it  ftrong-winged  eagles  dwell ;  broad-headed  oak.--, 
i;,  found  in  China's  wind.    Within,  in  his  locfcs 


5?4  TEMORA:  Bool  VIJ1. 

of  youth,  is  Ferad-artho  f,  blue-eyed  king,  the  fon  of 
broad-fhielded  Cairbar,  from  Ullin  of  the  roes.  He 
liftens  to  the  voice  of  Condan,  as  gray,  he  bends  in 
feeble  light.  He  linens,  for  his  foes  'dwell  in  the  e- 
choing  halls  of  Temora.  He  comes,  at  times,  abroad, 
in  the  Hurts  of  milt,  to  pierce  the  bounding  roes. 
When  the  fun  looks  on  the  field,  nor  by  the  rock,  nor 
ilream,  is  he  !  He  ihuns  the  race  of  Bo'ga,  who  dwell 
in  his  father's  hall.  Tell  him,  that  Fingal  lifts  the  I 
fpear,  and  that  his  foes,  perhaps,  may  fail. 

"  Lift  up,  O  Gaul !  the  fhield  before  him.  Stretch, 
Dermid,  'femora's  fpear.  Be  thy  voice  in  his  ear,  O 
Carril,  with  the  detds  of  his  fathers.  Lead  him  to 
green  Moi  kna,  to  the  dufky  field  of  ghofts  ;  for  there 
I  fall  forward,  in  battle,  in  the  folds  of  war.  Before  dun 
night  defcends,  come  to  high  Dunmoras  top.  Look, 
from  the  gray  roiling  of  mift,  en  Lena  of  the  ftreams. 

\  Ferari-artho  was  the  fon  of  Cairhar  Mac-Co:  mc  V.i :<"-  of  Ireland.  He  was  the 
only  one  remaining  of  the  race  of  Com.:',  the  fon  of  I  i  ■tin;  or,  the  firit  Irifh  mo. 
r.arth,  according  to  Oiiiaii.  In  order  10  «-..::k£  this  \  r.ffi >; :  thoi  -.nighty  underftood, 
it  may  not  ht  improper  to  recapitulate  foioc  -an  .•'■.'-■  la  be  n  laid  in  preced- 
ing noses.     Upon  the  death  of  C'onar  tne  : Cortnac  fttcceed- 

ed  on  the  lrifh  thi one    Cormac  reigned  1  . ..  e,  Cairbar,  who 

fucieedcd  him,  an<l  Ros-crana,  the  nr;t  wife  of  Kiv  -i      <_..■'  ..;,  long  before  the 
death  ot  hi?  fat  hei  Cormac,  bad  taken  tow  Pel      -■-.!...   ■  ghter  of  Colgar, 

kingoi  Irela   .    '  Soon  si     r  Artho  arrived  at  nether,  Bos-gala 


brought  to  his 
hi  the  fubjedc, 


fti^ 


'.  ithinh.i  ilwdto,  but  his  Wul  ii 


BWf  VJTT.  AfJ  EPIC  PoEM.  i8y 

If  there  my  ftandard  fhali  float  on  wind,  over  Lubar*9 
gleaming  courie,  then  has  not  Fingal  failed  in  the  laft 
■Js." 

were  his  words  :  nor  aught  replied  the  filent, 
finding  kings.  They  looked  fide-long,  on  Erin's  holt, 
and  darkened,  as  they  went.  Never  before  had  they 
left  the  king,  in  '.he  mid  I  of  the  ftormy  field.  Behind 
them,  touching  at  times  his  harp,  the  gray-haired  Car- 
ril  movedi  He  foreiaw  the  fall  of  the  people,  and 
the  found  !  It  was  like  a  breeze  that 
comes,  by  fits,  over  Lego's  reedy  lake  ;  when  fleep 
half-defcends  on  the  hunter,  within  his  mo  fly  cave. 

"  Why  bends  the  bard  of  Cona,"  faid  Fingal,  "  o- 
ver  his  iecret  ftream  ?  Is  this  a  time  for  forrow,  father 
of  low-laid  Ofcaf  ?  Be  the  warriors  f  remembered  in 
pea'-e;  when  echoing  fhields  are  heard  no  more.  Bend, 
then,  in  grief,  over  die  flood,  where  blows  the  moun- 
tain-breeze. Let  them  pafs  on  thy  foni,  the  blue-eyed 
s  of  Lena.  But  Erin  ro'ls  to  war,  wide-tumb- 
ling, rough,  and  dark.  Lift,  OiTian,  lift  the  ihield.  I 
am  alone,  ray  fon  !" 

As  comes  the  fudden  voice  of  winds  to  the  becalmed 
fhip  of  Inis-huna,  and  drives  it  large,  along  the  deep, 
dark  rider  of  the  wave :  fo  the  voice  of  Fingal  lent  Oi- 
■fian,  tali,  along  the  heath.  He  lifted  high  his  fhining 
ihield,  in  the  dufky  wing  of  war:  like  the  broad,  blank 
rnoon,  in  the  Ikirt  of  a  cioud,  before  the  ftorms  arife. 

Loud,  from   mofs-covered  Mora,  poured  down,  at 

t  It  is  ."jp^o^d  MaVna  fj?-i'c<;  the  foUo-.vhi?  foliloriuY.     "  Mi'vma  is  like  the 

bow  of  '.he  ^w.r,  in  the  feeret  vjllsv    it"  ltream-:    it  1    bright,  but  the   drops  of 

heaven  roll  on  ;•-,  blended  lir.i.t      They  Ijv,  that   1  am  fair  within  my  io.Ks,  but, 

.-  u-:s.  i,  the  wa:id:r:ng  ji  t.'.  -      il  irfenc:'-  iiies  over  mv  foui,  as  the 

5 of  the  breeze,  along  the  grafs  of  Lulhu.     Yet  have  not  the  ro„*  faitel 

.w  \ii  between  the  hills     lleafaat,  beneath  my  white  hand,  arofe  the 

found  or  har;.  .     Whit  then,  daughter  .-if  Lutha,  travels  over  thy  foui,  l.ke  the 

of  a  ghoit.  al  mg  the  nightly  beam  ?  Should  the  young  warrior  fall,  in 

the  roar  of  Ins  tro-j  _>!.•_'.  :i  ids  i  Young  virgins   of  Lu:Ti  arife,  call  back  the  .ian- 

tje.  :ng  thougbts  of  Jlalvina.  Awake  the  voice  of  the  harp,  along  my  echoing  vale. 

-  •.!>■•  forth,  li'-c.-a  '.-,ght  from  the  gates  of  the  inorawhen  clouds 

a  i  I  >....:,  with  their  broken  fides. 

:    tf  my  thoughts,  b-.  night,  whole  form  afcends  in  troubled  fields,  why 
in    fon   if  the  king?  Is  that  the  ihio  of  my 
.e  ridge^  of  ocean  ?   How  art  thou  fn  fuduen,  Oi'car, 
: 

..i!,  confided,  of  a  dialogue  between  uuin  andMal-. 
tuu,  wherein  taediilicfs  of  the  latter  is  carried  to  the  highclt  pilch. 


lS6  TEMORA:  Foot  VIII. 

once,  the  broad-winged  war.  Fingal  led  his  people 
forth,  king  of  Mcrven  of  flreams.  On  high  fpreads 
the  eagle's  wing.  His  gray  hair  is  poured  on  his  fhoul- 
ders  broad.  In  thunder  are  his  mighty  ftrides.  He 
often  flood,  and  faw  behind,  the  wide-gleaming  rol- 
ling of  armour.  A  rock  he  feemed,  gray  over  with 
ice,  whofe  woods  are  high  in  wind.  Bright  ftreams 
leap  from  its  head,  and  fpread  their  foam  on  blafts. 

Now  he  came  to  Lubar's  cave,  where  Fillan  darkly 
flept.  Bran  Aill  lay  on  the  broken  fbield  :  the  eagle- 
wing  is  flxewed  on  winds.  Bright,  from  wither- 
ed furze,  looked  forth  the  hero's  fpear.  Then  grief 
ilirred  the  foul  of  the  king,  like  whirlwinds  blacken- 
ing on  a  lake.  He  turned  his  fudden  ftep,  and  leaned 
on  his  bending  fpear.  White  breafted  Bran  came 
bounding  with  joy  to  the  known  path  of  Fingal.  He 
came  and  locked  towards  the  cave,  where  the  blue-eyed 
hunter  lay,  for  he  was  went  to  flride,  with  morning 
to  the  dewy  bed  of  the  roe.  It  was  then  the  tears  of 
the  king  came  down,  and  all  his  foul  was  dark.  But 
as  the  rifing  wind  rolls  away  the  ftorm  of  rain,  and 
leaves  the  white  flreams  to  the  fun,  and  high  hills  with 
their  heads  of  grafs  ;  fo  the  returning  war  brightened 
the  mind  of  Fingal.  He  bounded  f,  on  his  fpear,  o- 
ver  Lubar,  and  itruck  his  echoing  fhield.     His  ridgy 

fThe  Irifh  comyofition^  cnnc.-:iirr;  F:'ir:.i  invariably  fpeak  of  him  as  a  giant. 
-  Of.  thefe  Hibernian  i  .._.;  ,  :.n  :  ...c  i.m  r,;.,r,  in  i, iv  hands.  From  the  language, 
and  alk.fiiinj  tu    ru  .    v  ..re  s.  1  it,'l  fh,  u'd  fix  the  date  of  their 

toi.ipuiitiui    ..    :    ..       entl  :.   centuries.   In  fnrae  paffages,  the  poetry    ■ 

is  far  from  wanting  mt :i  u,  !>  i ;      .  .    .  wl.- le  conduct  of- 

the  pieces  injudicious.     I  (hall  giv  e  one  inltanrc  ol :i:  i;  citis   a^aat  hctiuns  of  the 

I:  -:(h  Ijards,  in  a  noem  «  hkh   ih.  .  .  i ;  unj-lilv,  :i-   :    ,  ;  •    '      .'...     The  ftory  of 

it  is  this     Ireland  being  threatened  wilh  an  ii       ion  fi  part  of  Scandina- 

via, Fingal  feni  otH.:i,   Ofiar  and  Ca-..l  .  •  .h.chit  was  ex- 

pelled, the  enemy  »as  ;o  land.    Oi'Lar,n,.  ,■'....-.    ,'.-     c  •  ihe  Scandina- 


Booh  VIU.  AS  EPIC  POEM.  1S7 

holt   bend  forward,  at    one,  -with  all  their   pointed 
fteel. 

Nor  Erin  heard,  with  fear,  the  found :  wide  they 
came  rolling  along.  Dark  Malthos,  in  the  wing 
of  war,  looks  forward  from  fhaggy  brows.  Next 
rofe  tl'.at  beam  of  light  Hidalla  ;  then  the  fide-long- 
looking  gloom  of  Maronnnn.  Blue-fhielded  Clonar  lifts 
the  fpear;  Cormar  makes  his  bufhy  locks  on  the  wind. 
Slowly,  from  behind  a  rock,  rofe  the  bright  form  of  A- 
tha.  Firft  appeared  his  two  pointed  fpears,  then  the 
half  of  his  burnifhed  fhield  :  like  the  rifmg  of  a  nightly 
meteor,  over  the  vale  of  ghofts.  But  when  he  fhone 
all  abroad  :  the  hofts  plunged,  at  once,  into  ftrife.  The 
gleaming  waves  of  fteel  are  poured  on  either  fide. 

As  meet  two  troubled  feas,  with  the  rolling  of  all 
their  waves,  when  they  feel  the  wings  of  contending 
winds,  in  the  roek-fided  frith  of  Lumon  ;  along  the  e- 
ehoing  hills  is  the  dim  courfe  of  ghofts  :  from  the  blaffc 
fall  the  torn  groves  on  the  deep,  amidft  the  foamy  path 
of  whales.  So  mixed  the  hofts !  Now  Fingal  ;  now 
Cathmor  came  abroad.  The  dark  tumbling  of  death 
is  before  them  :  the  gleam  of  broken  fteel  is  rolled  on 
their  fteps,  as,  loud,  the  high-bounding  kings  hewed 
down  the  ridge  of  fhiekls. 

Maronnan  fell,  by  Fingal,  laid  large  acrofsa  ftream. 
The  waters  gathered  by  his  fide,  and  leapt  gray  over 
his  bofly  fhield.  Clonar  is  pierced  by  Cathmor  :  nor 
yet  lay  the  chief  on  earch.  An  oak  feized  his  hair  in 
his  fail.  His  helmet  rolled  on  the  ground.  By  its 
thong,  hung  his  broad  fhield  ;  over  it  wandered  his 
ftreaming  biood.    Tiamin  f  fhall   weep,  in  the  hall, 

f  Tla-min,  «  mild!r-fort.'  The  loves  of  Clonar  and  Tlamin  were  rendered  fa. 
fniv.is  in  the  north,  by  a  fragment  or  a  l\rk  ;ioein,  ltill  preferved,  which  is  a- 
i  .  is  a  dal  >;rue  between  Cior.ar  and  Tlamin.    She  begins  with 

-  — T",Clonar,  fon  of  fionglas  of  I-oior,  yiunj  hunter  of  dtm-fided  roes f 
..   :uii.!.'l  n:ilu>,  beneath  tb.e  piling  wing  of  the  breeze  -   1  be- 
hold thee,  my  love,  in  the  pian  ot  thy  i«n  (ink    I'rcams!     I  lie  clung  thorn  -s 
t  in:  wi.'d,  and  rultlei  along  his  mield.     H  -;ght   in  his  lo.jfc,  he  iics  :   the 

:   r.:.<  biennis  ;iv,  darktni'ig,  over  his  face.     I  hou  thinkelt  ot  the  bulks 
I  .    oung  ron  of  the  echoing  ille! 

"Half-bid, in  the  grove,!  lit  down  Fly  back, ye  mifts  of  Uie  hill,  Whyflwuli 
ye  hide  Uei  •-> .  now  :u,  blue  ey«  of.  Tlamin  M  harps] 


1 88  TIMOR*?  BoolVin* 

and  flrike  her  heaving  breaft.  Nor  did  Ofiian  forget 
the  fpear,  in  the  wing  of  his  war.  He  ftrewed  the 
field  with  dead.  Young  Hidalla  came.  "  $oft  voice  of 
ftreamy  Clonra  !  Why  ceil  thou  lilt  the  fkel  ?  O  that 
we  met?  in  the  ftrife  of  fong,  in  thy  own  ruftiy  vale  l"\ 
JVlaitko  s  beheld  him  low,  and  darkened  as  he  riilhtd 
along.  On  either  fide  of  a  ft  ream,  we  bend  in  the  e- 
choing  ftrife.  Heaven  censes  rolling  down:  around 
burflthe  voices  of  fqually  winds.  Kills  are  clothed,  at 
times,  in  fire.  Thunder  rolls  in  wreaths  of  mift.  In 
darknefs  fhiunk  the  foe :  Morven's  warriors  flood  at 
ghaft.  Still  I  bent  over  the  ilream,  amidlt  my  v/hiffc- 
ling  locks. 

Then  rofethe  voice  of  Fingal,  and  the  found  of  the 
flying  foe.    I  few  the   king,  at  times,   in  lightning, 
darkly- finding   in   his  might.     I  (track  my   ^ 
(hield,  and  hung  forward  on  tbefieps  of  Alnecma.:  the 
foe  is  rolled  before  me,  like  a  wreath  of  fmoke. 

The  fun  looked  forth  from  his  cloud.  The  hundred 
^breams  of  MoiJena  ihone.  Slow  rcie  the  blue  columns; 
of  milt,  againft  the  glittering  hill.  "  Where  are  the 
mighty  kings?  +  Nor  by  that  Itreara,  nor  weed,  are 
they!  I  hear  the  clang  of  arms!  Their  fbrife  is  hi  the 
tclbrn  of  milt.*'     Such  is  the  contending  of  fuirila  in  a. 

Clojiat — ''•  As  the  fpirit,  fzen  in  a  dream,  flicsoiT  from  onr  opt!:'!!-' ryes,  -sre 

r     ik.i'cii 

Clnr.-pnl,  tn-r.i  the  fi   ht  of  Clou..!  u;  ihic!us.     .\;..  .  ..  nJ  trecij 

arife. 

-■•  U'im  ;r.t  :-.i;iy  fr/;n  I.i- ?■:;*.     IVl.y  f  -  ■  ;  V    ),..'.■    -.     fciTtove! 


-...-.       IhL 

be  poel                    I 

Hi;  a,;,!!.    '-   .'.:m,;.'  ,,»v  ,• 

combats  had 

,f  the  ki 

-•    - 

11 

:       ,:                      I  11 

1 

- 

.  i  .      i      |ir«         oetsnu 

■"1.  '     '   '                                    1                   "                                         -        '. 

■ 

>,  ii'  my  opinion,  (thoupi  it       i 

1',n;.i.!„i 

kits. 

-  tiut . 

Bool  Flit  AN  EPIC  POEM.  189 

sightly  cloud,  M'hen  they  ftrive  for  the  wintry  wings  of 
winds,  and  the  rolling  of  the  foam-covered  waves. 

I  ruined  along.  The  gray  mill  rofe.  Tail,  gleam- 
ing,  they  ftood  at  Lubar.  Cathmor  leaned  againit  a 
rock.  His  haU-fallen  fhield  received  the  ftream,  that 
leapt  from  the  mofs  above.  Towards  him  is  the  ilride 
of  Fingal ;  he  faw  the  hero's  blood.  His  fwordfell 
flowly  to  his  fide.     He  (poke,  amidft  his  darkenhv:  joy. 

«  Yields  the  race  of  Borbar-duthul  ?  Or  Hill  does  tie 
lift  the  fpear  ?  Not  unheard  is  thy  name,  in  Selmaj  in 
the  green  dwelling  of  flrangers.  It  has  come,  like  the 
breeze  of  his  delert,  to  the  ear  of  Fmgal.  Come  to  .ny 
hill  of  feafts  :  the  mighty  fail,  at  times.  No  fire  am  I 
to  low-laid  foes:  I  rejoice  not  over  the  fall  of  the  brave. 
To  clofef  the  wound  is  mine:  I  have  known  the  herbs 
of  the  hills.  I  feized  their  fair  heads,  on  high,  as  they 
waved  by  their  fecret  ftreams.  Thou  art  dark  and  fi- 
lent,  king  of  Atha  of  ftrangers." 

(i  By  Atha  of  the  ftreams,"  he  faid,  "  there  ri&s  a 
moiTy  rock.  On  its  head  is  the  wandering  of  boughs, 
within  the  courfe  of  winds.  Dark,  in  its  face,  is  a 
cave  with  its  own  loud  rill.  There  have  I  heard  the 
tread  of  ftrangers  j|,  when  they  paffed  to  my  hall  of 
ihells.  Joy  rofe,  like  a  flame,  on  my  foul  :  I  blcit  the 
echoing  rock.  Here  be  my  dwelling,  in  darknefs,  m 
Jny  grafly  vale.  From  this  I  mall  mount  the  breeze, 
Vol.  II.  R 

1  Fingal  is  very  mo  h  celebrated,  :iir.:.:iti.in,  for  his  knowledge  in  the  virtues  of 

..  i  .  r,  |iiit-.r.M..incerr.Mi3  him.  niter  rcr>rerertt  him,  tui::<?  Lhe  wounds 

.1-.!   in  Little.     They  tab!;  concerning  him,  th..  >■•;  *4<  ia 

.cuo,  containing  the  1  dch  inltantaneoufly  healed 

n  1.;:  :i:;j  v..  ,ir..;:C.  was, till  i>!  lal-,  unhei  fal  am  >nt» 

..  i>  .irr,  whirh  require  the  fkijl  ',:  p;i\- 

■  ■  u!  th;  cunu.e,  ana  a;,  aclue  lite,  Vent  iu  hunting,  ex- 

cX::.W,'.   , 

C-.-'imor  was  unparalleled.    He  reflefts,  with 

I  afforded  to  ftrangers,    The 

V    was  not  pbfPcd 

:h  tbe.11,  it  became  a  uruve.b.  w  .cr.  th-.y 

•  .  t  ii  -.t  he  was  like  Cathmor  of  Atha, 

ige,  that,  iu  all  the  Irifh  traditions,  there 

rted  to  the  revolutions  and 

•  1  ■  1 : ■•  -    vhich  hajiner,.,'  u<  <i-at  if!  n.d,  --in4,  ui.terlv  <  at  oa  all  the  real 

,.,..,.,..,..  r„  an.ie.'.t  a  pe-io.1.     -ill  that   we  have  r<-l-:!ed  of  the  flat- 

.  ..  k  mvejitoivaj  and  Uic  work  of  ilUiafona- 

I 


I90  TF.MORA:  Bool  nil, 

that  purfues  my  thiftle's  beard;  or  look  down,  on  blue- 
winding  Atha,  from  its  wandering  mift." 

"  Why  fpeaks  the  king  of  the  tomb  ?  Ofnan  !  the 
warrior  has  failed  !  Joy  meet  thy  foul,  like  a  ftream, 
Cathmor,  friend  of  ftrangers  !  My  fon,  I  hear  the  call 
of  years  :  they  take  my  fpear  as  they  pafs  along.  Why 
does  not  Fingal,  they  feem  to  fay,  reft  within  his  hall  ? 
Doft  thou  always  delight  in  blood  ?  In  the  tears  of  the 
fad  ?  No  :  ye  darkly-rolling  years,  Fingal  delights  not 
in  blood.  Tears  are  wintry  ftreams  that  wafte  away 
my  foul.  But  when  I  lie  down  to  reft,  then  comes  the 
mighty  voice  of  war.  It  awakes  me,  in  my  hall,  and 
calls  forth  all  my  fteel.  It  fhall  call  it  forth  ho  more  ; 
Ofiian,  take  thou  thy  father's  fpear.  Lift  it,  in  battle, 
when  the  proud  arife. 

"  My  fathers,  Oliian,  trace  my  fteps;  my  deeds  are 
pleafant  to  their  eyes.  Wherever  I  come  forth  to  bat- 
tle, on  my  field,  are  their  columns  of  mift.  But  mine 
arm  refcued  the  feeble  ;  the  haughty  found  my  rage 
was  fire.  Never,  over  the  fallen,  did  mine  eye  rejoice. 
For  this  [|  my  fathers  fhall  meet  me,  at  the  gates  of 
their  airy  halls,  tall,  with  robes  of  light,  with  mildly- 
kindled  eyes.  But,  to  the  proud  in  arms,  they  are  dark- 
ened moons  in  heaven,  which  fend  the  fire  of  night, 
red-vrnclering  over  their  face. 

"  Father  of  heroes,  Trenmor,  dweller  of  eddying 
winds  !  I  give  thy  fpear  to  OlTian,  let  thine  eye  rejoice. 
Thee  have  I  feen,  at  times,  bright  from  between  thy 
clouds ;  fo  appear  to  my  fon,  when  he  is  to  lift  the  fpear: 
then  fhall  he  remember  thy  mighty  deeds,  though  thou 
art  now  but  a  Waft." 

He  gave  the  fpear  to  my  hand,  and  raifed,  at  once,  a 
flone  on  high,  to  fpeak  to  future  times,  with  its  gray 


Another  opinion,  which  prevailed  in  thole  ti  e  .  tend- 
:n.:i  idual.scniohms  to  excel  one  another  in  martial  at. 
ought,  that  in  the  hall  of  clouds,  every  one  had  a  feat, 
ioooiLjou£t»  be  citifeUcU  whcaij  iw  vaiour3  wkeu  Us  UvU. 


Bool  VIII.  AS  EPIC  POEM.  I9I 

head  of  mofs.  Beneath  he  placed  a  fword  f  in  earth, 
and  one  bright  hoi's  from  his  fhield.  Dark  in  thought, 
a  while,  he  bends  :  his  words,  at  length,  came  forth. 

"  When  thou,  O  ftone,  fhall  mouider  down,  andlofe 
thee,  in  the  mofs  of  years,  then  mall  the  traveller  come, 
and  whiffling  pafs  away.  Thou  knoweft  not,  feeble 
wanderer,  that  fame  once  fhone  on  Moi-lena.  Here 
Fingal  refigned  his  fpear,  after  the  laft  of  his  fields. 
Pafs  away  thou  empty  fhade  ;  in  thy  voice  there  is  no 
renown.  Thou  dwelleft  by  fome  peaceful  fire  am  ;  yet 
a  few  years  and  thou  art  gone.  No  one  remembers 
thee,  thou  dweller  of  thick  milt !  But  Fingal  fhall  be 
clothed  with  fame,  a  beam  of  light  to  other  times  ;  for 
he  went  forth,  in  echoing  fteel,  to  fave  the  weak  in 
arms." 

Brightening  in  his  fame,  the  king  ftrode  to  Lubar's 
founding  oak,  where  it  bent,  from  its  rock,  over  the 
bright  tumbling  ftream.  Beneath  it  is  a  narrow  plain, 
and  the  found  of  the  fount  of  the  rock.  Here  the 
ftandard  ||  of  Morven  poured  its  wreaths  on  the 
wind,  to  mark  the  way  of  Ferad-artho,  from  his  fecret 
vale.  Bright,  from  his  parted  weft,  the  fun  of  heaven 
looked  abroad.  The  hero  law  his  people,  and  heard  their 
fhouts  of  joy  In  broken  ridges  round,  they  glittered  to 
the  beam.  The  king  rejoiced,  as  a  hunter  in  his  own 
green  vale,  when,  after  the  ftorm  is  rolled  away,  he  fees 
the  gleaming  fides  of  the  rocks.  The  green  thorn  fnakes 
its  head  in  their  face  ;  from  their  top,  look  forward  the 
roes. 

Gray  *",  at  his  moffy  cave,  is  bent  the  aged  form  of 
R  2 

f  There  are  fome  ftones  (till  to  be  Teen  in  the  north,  which  were  erected!  as 
memorials  01'  fume  ren  :.ri. .blc  tranfaci.ons  between  the  ancient  ch:cfs.  Th-re 
are  generally  found  beneath  them  fome  i.iete  of"  arms,  an  J  a  bit  of  h'ah-buint 
wood.     The  caufe  of  placirg  the  lall  there  is  not  mci    ioncd  in  tradition. 

||  The  erecting  of  his  (landard  on  the  bank  u  L.b.  r,  was  the  Signal,  which  Fir. 
gal,  in  the  beginning  of  the  book,  promifed  to  give  to  the  chiefs,  who  went  to 
conduct  Jr'erad-artho  to  the  army,  mould  he  himlelf  prevail  in  battle.  This  Hand- 
ard  here  'and  in  every  other  part  oi  Oman's  poems,  where  it  is  mentioned)  is  cal- 
led the  fun-beam.  The  reafonofthis  appellation,  is  given  more  than  once,  in 
notes  prccccuig. 

1  The  poet  changes  the  fcene  to  the  valley  of  Lona,  whither  Sul-malla  had  been 

':;iior,  before  the  battle.     Clonmal,  ?.r.  a^ed  I  lM,   01    ri    .cr  druid     as 

At  fecms  here  to  be  endued  vith  a  prefuenee  of  events,  had  luiiij  dwelt  tUele',  in 


T<n  TEMORAt  Soil  VI1T> 

Clonmal.  The  eyes  of  the  bard  had  failed.  He  lean- 
ed forward,  on  bis  fiaff.  Bright  in  her  locks,  before 
him,  Siii  malla  lifienedto  the  tale;  the  tale  of  the  kings 
of  Atha,  in  the  days  of  old.  The  noife  of  battle  had 
ceafed  in  his  ear  :  he  ftopt,  and  raifed  the  fecret  figh. 
The  fpirits  of  the  dead,  they  faid,  often  lightened  over 
ftis  foul.  Ke  faw  the  king  of  Atha  low,  beneath  his 
•  tree. 
«  Why  art  thou  dark  ?"  faid  the  maid.  "  The 
f.  of  arms  is  paft.  Soon  j|  fhall  he  come  to  thy  cave, 
over  thy  winding  ftreams.  The  fun  looks  from  the 
roc  k  s  of  the  weft.  The  mifts  of  the  lake  arife.  Gray, 
they  fpread  on  that  hill,  the  rufhy  dwelling  of  roes. 
]  '•  (  m  'he  mift  fhall  my  king  appear!  Behold,  he  comes, 
in  his  arms.  Come  to  the  cave  of  CJonmal,  O  my  belt 
beloved  !" 

It  was  the  fpirit  of  Cathmor,  ftalking,  large,-  a 
gleaming  form.  He  funk  by  the  hollow  flream,  that 
reared  between  the  hills.  "  ft  was  but  the  hunter," 
fhe  laid,  "  who  fearches  for  the  bed  of  the  roe.  His 
fieps  are  not  forth  to  war  ;  his  fpoufe  expects  him 
with  night.  He  fhalF,  whittling,  return,  with  the  fpoils 
of  the  dark -brown  hinds."  Her  eyes  are  turned  to  the 
hi:  ;  agam  the  ftately  form  came  down.  She  rofe,  in 
the  midft  of  joy.  He  retired  in  mift.  Gradual  vanifh, 
his  limbs  of  fmoke,  and  mix  with  the  mountain-wind. 
1  hen  flie  knew  that  he  fell  !  "  King  of  Erin  art  thou 
low  !"  Let  OHiau  forget  her  grief;  it  walks  thefout 
of  age  f. 

a  cave.    This  fecne  is  awful  and  folemn,  and  calculated  to  throw  a  mela.ncho'7 
gloom  over  il.    mind 

;..  (i  pmmifed,  in  th.fc  feventh  book,  to  come  to  the  cave  of  Clonma!, 


many  days.     1'/.'  he  is  unknown,  Sut-malla,  like  tie  thiftle  of  the  rocks  of  roet; 

Jtfhakesit!  ■:■•  1  les  d,  ■■•  b  •  nd,  ind  falls,  unfeen  of  our  eyes.  Not  Inch  are 
the  kings  of  men,  thi  .:  di  ,  M  in  .  ;.  meteor  of  fire,  wluti.  pours  iti  red  courfe> 
from  the  Jcfcrt,  over  thebofom  of  ni£tit. 


Book  FITT.  AN  EPIC   POEM.  10$ 

Evening  came  down  on  Moi-lena.  Gray  rolled  the 
ftreams  of  the  land.  Loud  came  forth  the  voice  of  Fin- 
ga! :  the  beam  oi  oaks  arofe,  the  people  gathered  round 
with  gladnefs  ;  with  gladnefs  blended  with  fhades. 
They  fide-long-looked  to  the  king,  and  beheld  his  un- 
finifhed  joy.  Pleafant,  from  the  way  of  the  defert,  the 
voice  of  mufic  came.  It  feemed,  at  firft,  the  noife  of 
a  ftream,  far-dillant  en  its  rocks.  Slow  it  rolled  along 
the  hill  like  the  ruffled  wing  of  a  breeze,  when  it  takes 
the  tufted  beard  of  the  rocks,  in  the  ftili  feafon  of  night. 
It  was  the  voice  of  Condan,  mixed  with  Carril's  trem- 
bling harp.  They  came  with  blue-eyed  Ferad-artho, 
to  Mora  of  the  ftreams. 

Sudden  burfts  the  fong  from  our  bards,  on  Lena :  the 
hoft  ftruck  the'r  fhiekls  midft  the  found.  Gladnefs 
rofe  brightening  on  the  king,  like  the  beam  of  a  cloudy 
day,  when  it  rifes,  on  the  green  hill,  before  the  roar  of 
winds.  He  ftruck  the  boffy  fhield  of  kings ;  at  once 
they  ceafe  around.  The  people  lean  forward,  from 
their  fpears,  towards  the  voice  of  their  landf. 

"  Sons  of  Morven,  fpread  the  feaft ;  fend  the  night 

away  on  fong.     Ye  have  fhone  around  me,  and  the 

dark   ftorm  is  paft.     My  people  are  the   windv  rocks, 

from  which  I  fpread  mv  eagle  wings,  when  I  rum  forth 

R3 

"  He  is  mixed  with  the  warriors  of  old,  thofe  fifes  that  hare  hid  their  heads.  At 
times  (hail  they  Lome  forth  in  fong  Nut  forgot  has  the  warrior  failed.  He  h^s 
Tint  fcen,  Sul-malla,  the  fall  of  a  beam  of  his  own:  no  fair-haired  Ton,  in  his 
blood,  young  troubler  of  the  field.  1  am  lonely,  young  branch  of  Lumon,  1  may 
hear  the  voice  of  the  feeble,  when  mv  ftrength'fhali  have  railed  in  years,  for 
young  Ofcar  has  c.af  don  his  field  

Sul-malla  returned  to  her  own  country,  and  makes  a  confidernble  figure  in  ths 
poem  which  iHfeaediately  follows;  her  behaviour  in  that  piece  accounts  for  that 
partial  regard  with  *h  ch  i   e  poet  fpeaksof  her  throughout  Temora. 

+  Before  nnifh  my  notes,  it  may  not  be  altogether  improper  to  obviate  an  ob- 
jection, which  may  be  made-  to  the  credibility  of  the  fiory  of  Temora.  as  related 
.-.  maybeafk-d,  wr  ther  it  is  probable  that  finc-a!  co-.M  perform  fuch 
actions  as  are  afcribed  to  nni  in  th\--  book,  at  an  age  wlien  his  grardfon  Ofcar,  had 
acquired  fo  much  reputation  in  arms,  l'o  this  it  may  be  anfwered,  that  K.i  .;.l 
v;.s  but  very  young  K  mk  IV  )  when  he  took  to  wife  Ros-cnna,  who  fo<  n  after 
■  iflian     Offian  was  alfo  extren  d 

Kvcr-a'lin,  the  mother  of  Ofcar.  Tradition  relates,  that  Fingal  wa  but  eighteen 
year-  old  at  the  birth  of  his  fon  Offian  ;  and  that  Offian  was  much  about  ::  e  fame 
age,  when  Ofcar,  his  fon,  was  born  Ofcar,  i  ei  hai  s,  mighl  be  about  twenty,  when 
he  was  killed,  in  the  b3ttle  of  Gabhra,  'Book  1.)  fo  the  age  of  Fingal,  when  the 
■'■  ■•  was  fought  between  him  and  Cathmor,  wasjull  fifty-fix  years.  In 
thofe  limes  of  activity  and  health,  the  natural  ftrength  and  vigour  of  a  man  was 
little  abated,  at  fuch  an  age  ;  fu  that  there  is  nothing  improbable  in  ths  acUoru  «f 
fingal,,  as  related  ini    . 


194  TEMORA:   AN  EPIC  POEM.        Bool  V III. 

to  renown,  and  feize  it  on  its  field.  Oflian  thou  haft 
the  (pear  of  Fingal :  it  is  not  the  ftaff  of  a  boy  with 
which  he  ftrews  the  thiftle  round,  young  wanderer  of 
the  field.  No  :  it  is  the  lance  of  the  mighty,  with 
which  they  ftretched  forth  their  hands  to  death.  Look 
to  thy  fathers,  my  fon  ;  they  are  awful  beams.  With 
morning  lead  Ferad-artho  forth  to  the  echoing  halls 
of  Temor a.  Remind  him  of  the  kings  cf  Erin  :  the 
ftately  forms  of  old.  Let  not  tlje  fallen  be  forgot, 
they  were  mighty  in  the  field./  Let  Carril  pour  his 
fong,  that  the  kings  may  rejoice  in  their  mill.  To- 
morrow I  fpread  my  fails  to  Selma's  fhaded  walls ; 
where  fireamy  Duthula  winds  through  the  feats  of 
roes." 


r% 


'^^*#1^^*S*-*- 


CATHLIN  OF  CLUTHA: 

A    POEM. 

THE  ARGUMENT. 
An  addreft  to  Malvina,  the  daughter  of  To  fear.  The  poet  relates  the  arrival  »{ 
Cutr.lin  in  ScJnia,  to  folii  it  aid  ipnlt  Duth-carmor  of  Cluba,  who  had  kilic* 
Cathmol,  fur  the  fake  of  his  daughter  LanuL  Fingal  de;  lining  to  make  a  choice 
among  his  heroes,  who  were  all  claiming  the  command  of  the  expedition  ; 
they  retired  each  to  his  hill  of  ghoits  ;  to  be  determined  by  dreams.  The 
fpirit  of  Trenmor  appears  to  OlTian  and  Ofcar  :  they  fail  from  the  c-ay  of  Car- 
mona,  and,  on  the  fourth  day,  appear  off  ths  valley  of  Rath-col,  in  livis-hcrna, 
•where  Duth-carmor  hac  fixed  his  refidence.  Ofiian  difpatches  a  bard  to  Duth- 
carmor  to  demand  battle.  Night  comes  oa.  The  diilrcis  of  Cathlin  of  Clutha. 
Ollian  devolve*  the  command  on  Ofcar,  who,  according  to  the  cuitom  of  the 
kings  of  Morven,  before  battle,  retired  ro  a  neighbouring  hill.  Upon  the  com- 
ing on  of  day,  the  battle  joins.  Ofcir  and  Duth-carmor  meet.  The  latter  falls. 
Ofcar  cirries  the  mail  and  helmet  of  Duth-carmor  to  Cathlin,  who  had  retire* 
from  the  field  Cathlin  is  difcovered  to  be  the  daughter  oi  Cathmol,  in  dif. 
guife,  who  had  been  carried  o3,  by  force,  by,  and  had  made  her  efcape  from* 
Duth-carmor. 

poME  f>  thou  beam  that  art  lonely,  from  watching 
^  in  the  night!  The  fqually  winds  are  around  thee, 
from  all  their  echoing  hills.  Red,  over  my  hundred 
ftreams,  are  the  light-covered  paths  of  the  dead.  They 
rejoice,  on  the  eddying  winds,  in  the  ftill  ftafen  of  r  bt; 
Dwells  there  no  joy  in  fong,  white  hand  of  the  harp* 
of  Lutha  ?  Awake  the  voice  of  the  firing,  and  roil  my 
foul  to  me.  It  is  a  ftream  that  has  failed.  Malvina 
pour  the  fong. 

I  hear  thee,  from  thy  darknefs,  in  Selma,  thou  that 
watch. eft,  lonely,  by  night  !  Why  didft  thou  with- 
hold the  fong,  from  Ofiian's  failing  foul  ?  As  the  fal- 
ling brook  to  the  ear  of  the  hunter,  defcending  from 
his  ftorm-covered  hill ;  in  a  fun-beam  rolls  the  echoing 
ftream  ;  he  hears,  and  fhakes  his  dewy  locks  :  fuch  is 
the  voice  of  Lutha,  to  the  friend  of  the  fpirits  of  he- 
roes. My  fwelling  bofom  beats  high.  I  look  back  on 
ihe  days  that  are  pail.  Come,  thou  beam  that  art  lone- 
ly, from  the  watching  of  night. 

t  The  traditions,  which  accompany  this  poem,  inform  us,  that  both  it,  and  the 
...-«.-,  „kJ;,  .1  civj  -....  kb ;  name  ui  Lai-Oi-luUa ;  i.  e.  the  Jtysayg 


S96  CATHLIK  OF  CLUTMA: 

In  the  echoing  bay  of  Carmona  f  we  faw,  one  day, 
the  bounding  fhip.  On  high,  hung  a  broken  fhield  ; 
it  was  marked  with  wandering  blood.  Forward  came 
a  youth,  in  armour,  and  ftretched  his  pointlefs  fpear. 
Long  over  his  tearful  eyes,  hung  loofe  his  difordered 
locks.'  Fingal  gave  the  fhell  of  kings.  The  words  of 
the  ftranger  arofe. 

"  In  his  hall  lies  Cathmol  of  Clutha,  by  the  winding 
of  his  own  dark  ftreams.  Duth-carmor  faw  white -bo- 
fomed  Lanul  ||,  and  pierced  her  father's  fide.  In  the 
rufhy  defert  were  my  fteps.  He  fled  in  the  feafon  of 
night.  Give  thine  aid  to  Cathlin  to  revenge  his  father. 
I  fought  thee  not  as  a  beam,  in  a  land  of  clouds.  Thou, 
like  that  fun,  art  known,  king  of  echoing  Selma." 

Selma's  king  looked  around.  In  his  prefence,  we 
rofe  in  arms.  But  who  fhould  lift  the  fhield  r  for  all 
had  claimed  the   war.    The   night  came  down  ,  we 


the  foil  of  Fingal,  to  the  hanks  of  Uifca  duthon.  In  fupport  of  this  opinion,  the 
the  Highland  Seitachies  have  prefixed  to  this  poem,  an  addrefsof  Offian,  to  Congal 
the  young  fon  ot  Fergus,  which  1  have  rejected,  as  having  no  manner  ol  connec- 
tion with  the  reft  of  the  piece.  It  has  poetical  merit ;  and,  probably,  it  was  the 
opening  of  one  of  OfTian's  other  poems,  though  the  bards  injudicioufly  transferred 

"  Congal  fon  of  Fergus  of  Durath,  thou  light  between  thy  locks,  afcend  to  the 
rock  of  Selma,  to  the  oak  of  the  breaker  of  fhields.  Look  over  the  tioi'om  of 
jiight,  it  is  ilreaked  with  the  red  paths  of  the  dead  :  look  on  the  night  of  ghofts, 
and  kindle,  O  Congal,  thy  foul.  Be  not,  like  the  moon  on  a  ftream,  lonely  in  the 
midll  of  clouds;  darknefs  clofe?  around  it;  and  the  beam  departs.  Depart  not, 
fon  of  Fergus,  ere  thou  markeft  the  field  with  thy  fword.  Afcend  to  the  rock  of 
Selma ;  to  the  oak  of  the  breaker  of  fhields  " 

t  Car-mona,  'bay  of  the  dark-brown  hills,' an  arm  of  the  fea,inthe  neighbour- 
hood of  Selma.  In  this  paragraph  are  mentioned  the  rignals  prefented  to  Fingal, 
by  thofe  who  came  to  demand  his  aid  1  he  fuppliants  held,  in  one  hand,  a  fhield 
covered  with  blood,  and,  in  the  other,  a  broken  fpear  ;  the  full  a  fymbol  ot  ths 
death  if  their  friends,  the  lafl  an  emblem  of  their  own  helplcfs  lituatien.  If  the 
tint?  thofe  to  grant  fuccours,  which  generallv  was  the  cafe,  he  reached  to  them 
the  fhell  of  feaits,  us  a  token  .if  his  hi  f;  italitvar.d  friendh  in  tent  inns  towards  them. 

It  may  not  be  difagrecahlc  to  the  reader  to  Kv  here  before  him  the  ceremony 
of  the  Cran-tara,  which  was  of  a  fimilar  nature,  and,  ti.l  verv  lalclv,  i  fed  in  'he 
highlands.  When  the  news  of  an  enemy  ntitc  to  t!  e  rcfidencc  of  the  cli  ef,  he 
immcoiateW  killed  a  goat  with  his  o«  n  fword.  dipped  the  end  of  an  half-l.urnt 
piece  of  wood  in  the  blood,  and  gave  it  to.n.e  .  f  h'.-  leav.nts,  to  be  carried  to  the 
next  hamlet.  From  hamlet  to  harr.Ietthi=  .eiTera  was  carried  with  the  utmoit  ex- 
pedition, and,  in  the  fpaccof  a  few  hours,  the  whole  clan  were  in  arms,  and  con- 
vened in  an  appointed  place  :  the  name  of  which  \t  as  the  only  word  which  accom- 
panied the  delivery  of  the  Cran-tara.  This  fymbol  was  the  maniurto  ,  f  the  chief, 
hywh'chhc  threatened  fireand  Iword  to  thofeof  his  clan,  that  did  not  immediate- 
ly appear  at  hi<s  llandard. 

Il  Lanui,  '  full-eyed,'  a  furname  which, according  to  t'  adition,  was  bellowed  on 
the  daughter  of  Cathmol, on  an  runt  of  her  beaut vj  this  radition.  however,  may 
have  been  founded  on  that  partiality,  which  the  bard-  have  fhcun  to  Cathlin  mC 
Clutha;  for,  according  to  them,  no  tsifehwod  could  dwell  in  It*  foul  of  the  lovely,. 


A   rOEM.  197 

ftrode,  in  filenee  ;  each  to  his  hill  of  ghofts :  that  (pi- 
nts might  defcend,  in  our  dreams,  to  mark  us  for  the 
field. 

We  ftruck  the  fhield'of  the  dead,  andraifed  the  hum 
of  fongs.  We  thrice  called  the  ghofts  of  our  fathers. 
We  laid  us  down  in  dreams.  Trenmor  came,  before 
mine  eyes,  the  tall  form  of  other  years.  His  blue  hofts 
were  behind  him  in  half-diftinguiihed  rows.  Scarce 
feen  is  their  ftrife  in  mill,  or  their  ftretchjhg  forward 
to  deaths.  I  liflened  ;  but  no  found  was  there.  The 
forms  were  empty  wind. 

I  ftarted  from  the  dream  of  ghofts.  On  a  fudden 
blaft  flew  my  whittling  hair.  Low-founding,  in  the 
oak,  is  the  departure  of  the  dead.  I  took  my  (hield 
from  its  bough.  On-ward  came  the  rattling  cf  Heel. 
It  was  Ofcar  f  of  Lego.     He  had  feen  his  fathers. 

"  As  rufhes  forth  the  blaft,  on  the  bofom  of  whiten- 
ing waves  ;  fo  carelefs  fhall  my  courfe  be,  through  o- 
cean,  to  the  dwelling  of  foes.  I  have  feen  the  dead, 
my  father.  My  beating  foul  is  high.  My  fame  is 
bright  before  me,  like  the  ftreak  of  light  on  a  cloud, 
when  the  broad  fun  comes  forth,  red  traveller  of  the 
iky." 

"  Grandfon  of  Branno,"  I  faid  ;  "  not  Ofcar  alone 
fhall  meet  the  foe.  I  rufh  forward,  through  ocean,  to  the 
woody  dwelling  of  heroes.  Let  us  contend,  my  fon, 
like  eagles,  from  one  rock  ;  when  they  lift  their  broad 
wings,  againft  the  ftream  of  winds."  We  raifed  our 
fails  in  Carmona.  From  three  fhips,  they  marked  my 
fhield  on  the  wave,  as  I  looked  on  nightly  Ton-thena  ||, 
red  wanderer  between  the  clouds.  Four  days  came 
the  breeze  abroad.  Lumon  came  forward  in  mift.  In 
winds  were  its  hundred  groves.  Sun-beams  marked, 
at  times,  its  brown  fide.  White,  leapt  the  foamy 
ilreams  from  all  its  echoing  rocks. 

f  Ofcar  is  here  cslled  Ofcar  of  Lepio,  from  bis  mother  being  the  daughter  of 
Branny,  a  powerful  chief",  on  the  banks  of  that  lake.  It  is  remarkable  that  GiTia« 
addrcfles  no  poem  to  Malvina,  in  which  her  lover  Ofcar  was  not  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal actors.  His  attention  to  her,  after  the  death  of  his  fon,  fhews  that  del  cicy 
mi  fentiment  is  not  confined,  as  fome  fondly  imagine,  to  our  own  polifhed  times. 

il  Tea-Uie*a,  '  ire  of  the  wave,'  was  that  remarkable  liar,  which  as  ias  bee*.- 


I9S  CATHLIN    OF   CLUTHA: 

A  green  field,  in  the  bofom  of  hills,  winds  filent  with, 
its  own  blue  fiream.  Here,  midft  the  waving  of  oaks, 
were  the  dwellings  of  kings  of  old.  But  filence,  for 
many  dark -brown  years,  had  fettled  in  graffy  Rath- 
col  f,  for  the  race  of  heroes  had  failed,  along  the  plea- 
fant  vale.  Duth-carmor  was  here,  with  his  people,  dark 
rider  of  the  wave.  Ton-tht;na  had  hid  her  head  in  the 
fky.  He  bound  his  white-bofomed  fails.  His  courfe 
is  on  the  hills  of  Rath-col,  to  the  feats  of  roes. 

We  came.  I  fent  the  bard,  with  fongs,  to  call  the 
foe  to  fight.  Duth-carmor  heard  him,  with  joy.  The 
king's  foul  was  a  beam  of  fire  ;  a  beam  of  fire,  mark- 
ed with  fmoke,  rulhing,  varied,  through  the  bofom 
of  night.  The  deeds  of  Duth-carmor  were  dark,  though 
his  arm  was  ftrong. 

Night  came,  with  the  gathering  of  clouds.  By  the 
beam  of  the  oak  we  fat  down.  At  a  diltance  Hood 
Cathlin  of  Clutha.  I  faw  the  changing  foul  of  the  ftran-  ■ 
ger  ||.  As  fhadows  fly  over  the  field  ofgrafs,  fo  vari- 
ous is  Cathlin's  cheek.  It  was  fair,  within  locks,  that 
rofe  on  Rath-col's  wind.  I  did  not  rufh,  amidft  his 
foul,  with  my  words.     I  bade  the  fong  to  rife. 

"  Ofcar  of  Lego,"  I  faid,  "  be  thine  the  fecret  hilll,  to 


mentioned  in  the  feventh  book  of  Temora,  directed  the  courfe  of  Larthon  to  Ire- 
land. It  feems  to  have  been  well  known  to  thofe,  who  failed  on  that  fea,  which 
divides  Ireland  from  South-Britain.  As  the  cuurfe  of  Oilian  was  along  the  eoaft 
of  Inis-huna,  he  mentions  with  propri.ty,  that  ftar  which  directed  the  voyage  of 
the  colony  from  that  country  to  Ireland. 

t  Rath-col,  '  woody  field,'  does  not  appear  to  have  been  the  refidence  of  Duth- 
carmor  :  he  feems  rather  to  have  been  forced  thither  by  a  ftorm  ;  at  lealt  I  ihould 
thjnk  that  to  be  the  meaning  of  the  poet,  from  his  expreflion,  that  1  on-ihena  had 
hid  her  head,  and  that  he  bound  his  whitr-bofomed  lails;  which  is  as  much  as  to 
fay,  that  the  weather  wasltormy,and  that  Duth-carmor  put  in  to  the  bay  of  Rath- 
col  for  fhelter. 

||  From  this  circumftance,  fuccceding bards  feigned  that  Cathlin,  who  is  here  in 
thedifguil'e  of  a  young  warrior,  had  fallen  in  love  with  Duth-carmor  at  a  '■*-" 
to  which  he  had  been  invited  by  her  father  Her  love  was  converted  into  i 
tation  for  him,  after  he  had  murdered  her  father.  But  as  thofe  rain.bows  o: 
ven  arc  changeful,  fay  my  authors,  fpeaking  of  women,  (lie  felt  the  return  < 
former  paffion,  upon  the  approach  of  Duth-carmor's  danger.  I  myfelf,  who 
more  favourably  of  the  fex,  mult  attribute  the  agitation  of  Cathlin's  mind  t 
extreme  fenfibility  to  the  injuries  done  her  by  Dulh-carmor;  and  this  opinion  is 
favoured  by  the  fequelof  the  ltory 

H  This  paifage  alludes  to  the  well  known  cuftom  among  the  ancient  kings  c_ 
Scotland,  to  retire  from  their  army  on  the  night  prccedinr  a  battle.  The  ltory 
which  Otlian  introduces  in  the  next  paragraph,  conce  ns  the  tail  of  the  druids, 
of  which  1  have  given  fome  account  in  the  Diiferlation.  It  is  faid  in  many  old 
fcoeuii,  that  the  druids,  in  the  extremity  of  their  atlairs,  had  folicitcd,  and  obtaia. 


A    POEM.  T99 

night.  Strike  the  fhield,  like  Morven's  kings.  With, 
day,  thou  (halt  lead  in  war.  From  my  rock,  I  fhall 
fee  thee,  Ofcar,  a  dreadful  form  afcending  in  fight,  like 
the  appearance  of  ghoits,  amidft  the  ftorms  they  raife. 
Why  mould  mine  eyes  return  to  the  dim  times  of  old, 
ere  yet  the  fong  had  burlled  forth,  like  the  Hidden  rif- 
ing  of  winds.  But  the  years,  that  are  paft,  are  marked 
with  mighty  deeds.  As  the  nightly  rider  of  waves 
looks  up  to  Ton-thena  of  beams :  fo  let  us  turn  our 
eyes  to  Trenmor,  the  father  of  kings." 

Wide,  in  Caracha's  echoing  field,  Carmal  had  pour- 
ed his  tribes.  They  were  a  dark  ridge  of  waves  ;  the 
gray-haired  bards  were  like  moving  foam  on  their  face. 
They  kindled  the  ftrife  around  with  their  red-rolling 
eyes.  Nor  alone  were  the  dwellers  of  rocks  ;  a  fon  of 
Loda  was  there  ;  a  voice  in  his  own  dark  land,  to  call 
the  ghoits  from  high.  On  his  hill,  he  had  dwelt,  in 
Lochlin,  in  the  midft  of  a  leaflefs  grove.  Five  ftones 
lifted,  near,  their  heads.  Loud-roared  his  rufhing 
ftream.  He  often  raifed  his  voice  to  winds,  when  me- 
teors marked  their  nightly  wings ;  when  the  dark- 
robed  moon  was  rolled  behind  her  hill. 

Nor  unheard  of  ghofts  was  he !  They  came  with  the 
found  of  eagle-wings.  They  turned  battle,  in  fields, 
before  the  kings  of  men. 

But,  Trenmor,  they  turned  not  from  battle;  he  drew 
forward  the  troubled  war ;  in  its  dark  fkirt  was  Tra- 
thal,  like  a  rifing  light.  It  was  dark  ;  and  Loda's  fon 
poured  forth  his  figns,  on  night.  The  feeble  were  not 
before  thee,  fon  of  other  lands  ! 

Then  f  rofe  the  ftrife  of  kings,  about  the  hill  of  night ; 
but  it  was  foft  as  two  fummer  gales,  making  their  light 
wings,  on  a  lake.  Trenmor  yielded  to  his  fon ;  for 
the  fame  of  the  king  was  heard.    Trathal  came  forth 


ed  aid  from  Scandinavia.  Amonr;  the  auxiliaries  there  came  many  pretended  ma. 
giciaiii, which  iircumttar.ee  Offian  allude*  to,  in  hi?  defcription  01"  the-  i'..n  01  Loda. 
Magic  and  incantation  could  not,  however,  prevail :  for  Trenmor,  affiiled  by  the 
valour  of  bis  fen  Trathal,  entirely  broke  the  power  of  the  druids 

t  Trenmor  and  Trathal.    UiTun  introduced  ttii  epitudv,  <»*  *n  exuinplc  to  hi* 
(in,  frets  wtient  Uaitf. 


tOO  CATHLIN  OF  CLUTHAt 

before  his  father,  and  the  foes  failed,  in  echoing  Cara- 
cha.  The  years  that  are  paft,  my  fon,  are  marked  \\  ith 
mighty  deeds  f . 

*    .  ■  *         #         *         *         *         *         * 

In  clouds' rofe  the  eaftern  light.  The  foe  came  forth 
in  arms.  The  ftrife  is  mixed  at  Rath-col,  like  the  roar 
of  Dreams.  Behold  the  contending  of  kings  !  They 
meet  befide  the  oak.  In  gleams  of  fteel  the  dark  forms 
are  loft ;  fuch  is  the  meeting  of  meteors,  in  a  vale  by 
night :  red  light  is  fcattered  round,  and  men  forefee  the 
ftorm.  Duth-carmor  is  low  in  blood.  The  fon  of  Of- 
fian  overcame.  Not  harmiefs  in  battle  was  he,  Malvi- 
»a,  hand  of  harps  ! 

Nor,  in  the  field,  are  the  fteps  of  Cathlin.  The  ftran- 
ger  ftcod  by  a  fecret  ftream,  where  the  foam  of  Rath- 
col  fkirted  the  molly  ftones.  Above,  bends  the  branchy 
birch,  and  itrews  its  leaves,  on  winds.  The  inverted 
fpear  of  Cathlin  touched,  at  times,  the  ftream.  Ofcar 
brought  Duth-carmor's  mail:  his  helmet  with  its  eagle- 
wing.  He  placed  them  before  the  firanger,  and  his 
words  were  heard.  "  The  foes  of  thy  father  have 
failed.  They  are  laid  in  the  field  of  r^hofts.  Renown 
returns  to  Morven,  like  a  rifing  wind.  Why  art  thcu 
dark,  chief  of  Clutha  ?  Is  there  caule  for  gnct  I" 

Ci  Sen  of  Ofiian  of  harps,  my  foul  is  darkly  fad.  I  be- 
hold the  arms  of  Cathmol,  which  he  railed  in  war. 
Take  the  mail  of  Cathlin,  place  it  high  in  Selma'shall; 
that  thou  mayefl  remember  the  haplefs  in  thy  diftant 
land." 

From  white  breafts  defcended  the  mail.  It  was  the 
race  of  kings ;  the  foft-handed  daughter  of  Cathmol, 
at  the  ftreams  of  Clutha.  Durh-carmcr  faw  her  bright 
in  the  hall,  he  came,  by  night,  to  Clutha.  Cathmol 
met  him,  in  battle,  but  the  warrior  fell.    Three  days   j 

t  Thnfe  who  deliver  down  this  poem  in  tradition,  lament  that  there  is  a  great    I 

•  i  :m  cpii'cde,  which  was'  here 
iiitrndii'-td,  v.  i'h  the  fei|'.icl  of  the  tforx  i.r  i.  .irm.,1  r.r.d  h,:,  druids.      1  heir  attach- 

•■  r  ■  ■  \  -.:..-.  ic^ndsd  on  [lie  dc&ripti<M»  oi  sa^gieal  imjipfc*-1-*-'-  :,-:.. i.  .', 


A    POEM.  20I 

dwelt  the  foe  with  the  maid.  On  the  fourth  fhe  fled 
in  arms.  She  remembered  the  race  of  kings,  and  felt 
her  buriting  foul. 

"Why,  maid  of  Tofcar  of  Lutha,  mould  I  tell  how 
Cat'hlin  failed  ?  Her  tomb  is  at  rufhy  Lumon,  in  z  di- 
ftant  land.  Near  it  were  the  fteps  of  Sul-malla,  in  the 
days  of  grief.  She  raifed  the  fong,  for  the  daughter  of 
ftrangers,  and  touched  the  mournful  harp. 

Come,  from  the  watching  of  night,  Malvina,  lonely 
beam! 


Vol.  II. 


£4^ 


w 


SUL-MALLA  OF  LUMON: 

A    POEM. 

THE  ARGUMENT. 
This  pqem,  which  properly  fpeaking,  is  a  continuation  of  the  laft,  opens  with  a» 
addiefslo  Sul-malla,  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  inis-huna,  whom  Offian  met  at 
the  chafe,  ;'s  he  returned  froni  the  bat'lc  of  Rath-col.  Sul-malla  invites  Offiin 
and  Oicar  io  aieaft,  at  the  re.iociicc  of  !icr  fatter,  who  was  then  abfent  in  the 
wars.  Uj.cn  hearing  their  name  and  family,  {he. relates  an  expedition  of  Fiiigal 
into  Inis-huna.  She  cafuall^  mer.-.ionir.g  Catnmor,  chief  of  Atha,  (who  then 
affifted  her  father  again!!  his  enemies)  Offian  rfitrodutes  the  epifode  of  Culgurm 
Sjr.d  Suran-droulo,  two  Scandinavian  kings,  in  whole  wars  Oman  himielfand 
Cathmor  were  engaged  on  opfoiite  fides.  The  ftory  is  imperfect,  a  part  of  the  ' 
original  being  loft.  Offian,  warned,  in  a  dream,  by  the  ghoil  of 'i'renmor,  fets 
fail  from  Inis-huna. 

[Tho  f  moves  fo  ftately,  on  Lumon,  at  the  roar  of 
*  the  foamy  waters  ?  Her  hair  falls  upon  her  heav- 
ing breaft.  White  is  her  arm  behind,  as  flow  fhe  bends 
the  bow.  Why  doft  thou  wander  in  deferts,  like  a 
light  through  a  cloudy  field  ?  The  young  roes  are 
panting,  by  their  lecret  rocks.  Return^  thou  daughter 
of  kings  ;  the  cloudy  night  is  near. 

It  was  the  young  branch  of  Lumon,  Sul-malla  of 
blue  eyes.  She  fent  the  bard  from  her  rock,  to  bid  us 
to  her  feaft.  Amidft  the  fong  we  fat  down,  in  Cam 
xnorJs  echoing  hall.  White  moved  the  hands  of  Sul- 
malla,  on  the  trembling  firings.  Half-heard,  amidft 
$he  found,  was  the  name  of  Atlia's  king  :  he  that  was 

tThe  expedition  of  Offian  to  Inis-huna  happened  a  fhort  time  before  Fin^al 

palfed  uver  in.0  Ireland,  in  dethrone  Ciibar  tf  e  for.  of  Borbar-duthul.  Cathmor, 
the  brother  of  Cairhar,  was  aiding  Cnr.-mor,  king  of  inis-huna,  in  hi;  wars,  at 
the  time  that  Ofi'ian  defeated  Duth-tarmor,  in  the  vallt-y  of  Rath-col.  The  poem 
is  more  intercftir.g,  that  ii  c    n tains  lo  mar.y  particular;  concerning  thole  perion- 

"l  he  exact  correspondence  ir.  the  manners  and  cultoms  of  Inis-huna,  as  here  de- 
ferred, to  thofent  Caicdnu.a,  V..ves  no  room  to  doubt,  that  the  inratmaus  of 
both  were  originally  the  faint  people,  borne  i.i.j  allege,  t'.r.t  Offian  might  trans, 
ier,  in  his  poetu  a!  e'efenpt'on  ,  t.ie  manners  (.!  hi:,  o  va  na'.mn  to  foreigners,  The' 
(ihje  -tinii  io  caf.ly  aiifvcrcd  ;  for  h.ui  Oi.ian  Lied  ;..'.'  t:  f-Ctiur:  in  this  palTagc,  There 
js  no  reafon  why  he  iho'i'i.'  paint  the  manners  of  the  Scandinavians  fo  rtiffc.ent 
from  thofe  of  the  Caledonians.  We  lind,  however,  the  tonner  very  different  in 
t'aeir  cuftoms  and  fuperfhtions  from  the  nations  of  Britain  and  Ireland,  ire  -Scan- 
dinavian manner.-  are  remarkably  barbarous  and  fierce,  and  feem  to  mark  out  a 
,..it,on  much  iefs  p-dvancv/J  Ui  .ivll  fit-icty,  th:,3  \l\  i;^.,.','.:.'.^t.  oj 'itltw.  v  .  :  '.-» 
Ulic  limes  pfOffiau. 


A   POEM.  -20 3 

abfent  in  battle  for  her  own  green  land.  Nor  abfent 
from  her  foul  was  he :  he  came  midft  her  thoughts  by 
night :  Ton  arena  looked  in,  from  the  fky,  and  faw 
her  toffing  arms. 

The  found  of  the  fhells  had  oeafed.  Amidft  long 
locks,  Sul-malla  rofe.  She  fpoke  with  bended  eyes, 
andaiked  oi  our  courfe  through  f-as,  "  for  of  the  kings 
of  men  are  ye,  tall  ride  rs  of  the  wave  f-.'*  "  Not  un- 
known "  I  faid,  "  at  his  itrr-ams  is  he,  the  father  of  our 
race.  Filial  has  been  heard  of  at  Cluba,  blue-eyed 
Ifeughter  of  king..  Nor  onlv-  at  Cona*  ftream,  is 
ar  knov  n.  Fo  I  mbled  at  our  voice,, 
ak  in  other  lands." 

"Net  unmarked,"  faid  th<  laid,  -;  by  Sul-malla,  is 
thefhieldof  Moi  ren's  king.  It  hang*  high,  in  Con-mor'a 
hall,  in  memory  of  the  aft;  when  Fhtgal  came  to 
Cluba,  in  the  days  of  other  years.  Loud  roared  the 
boar  of  Culdarnu,  in  the  midft  of  his  reck?  and  woods. 
Inis-huna  fent  her  youths,  but  they  failed;  and  virgins 
wept  over  tombs.  Carelefs  went  the  kin<  to  Culdarnu. 
On  his  fpear  rolled  the  ftrength  of  the  woods.  He  was 
bright,  they  i'a'd,  in  h.s  locks,  the  firft  of  mortal  men. 
Nor  at  the  feaft  were  heard  his  words.  His  de^ds  pal- 
fed  from  his  foul  of  nre,  like  the  rolling  of  vapours 
from  the  face  of  the  wandering  fun.  Not  careleis  look- 
ed the  blue-eyes  of  Cluba  on  his  ftately  fteps.  in  white; 
bofoms  rofe  the  king  of  Selma,  in  midft  oi  their 
thoughts  by  night.  But  the  winds  bore  the  ft.  anger 
to  the  echoing  vaies  of  his  roes.  Nor  loft  to  other 
S  z 

1  Sul-malla  heredifcovers  the  quality  of  Oiilan  and  OfcaT  fron  'heir  ftature  and 
flateiy  gait.  Among  nations  not  far  advanced  in  civilisation,  fu-crior  beauty 
and  itatelincfs  of  jerf.in  were  mfeparabie  from  nobilits  oi  h<-.,].  it  wa  m 
thefe  qualities,  ~hai  tbofeol  were  known  by  nr»,igi..J,      it  from  tawdry 

trappings  of  itate  i  ijuditioufly  thr-.  v;i  nur.d  tr.em.  '  rhe  caufe  >f  this  drftin^uiib— 
ingprnptr-.  .    -f-r  ;  td  to  rheir  unmixed  blood,      rhey 

iile  -.hem  ■; :  .i?.<-;  fro.;:  :hci:  ihuke,  in  their  own  f;h.*re.  '.n  itate  .whe.tluxu- 
,  has  been  long  jitablifhed,  I  am  told,  that  beauty  oi  peri  ,i  is,  by  no  mean  ,  the 
charactering  « .t  Lntiquity  of  family.  This  mull be  attr.'  u -d  t  .  t'bofe  enei  a'.ing 
ViCt-j,  v,  bi- h  are  inleparahle  from  luxury  a:.d  ••  ■<  ±lth.  .'.  g  eat  family,  (t  >  a'ter  a 
little  the  words  ot  the  hiftorian)  it  is  true,  like  a  river,  becj...es  confideratlt  from 
the  length  of  its  courfe,  but,  as  it  rolls  on,  hereditary  diltempers,  as  well  as  pro- 
perty, now  fucceflively  into  it- 


■204  SUL-MALLA  OF  LUMON  : 

lands  was  he,  like  a  meteor  that  finks  in  a  cloud.  He  • 
came  forth,  at  times,  in  his  brightnefs,  to  the  difiant 
dwelling  of  foes.  His  fame  came,  like  the  found  of 
winds,  to  Cluba's  woody  vale  f . 

"Darknefs  dwells  in  Cluba  of  harps :  the  race  of  kings 
is  djftant  far  ;  in  battle  is  Con-mor  of  fpcars  ;  and  Lor- 
ir.'.-r  |J  king  of  ftreams.  Nor  darkening  alone  are  they  ; 
a.  beam,  from  other  lands,  is  nigh  :  the  friend  f  of 
?"-  rs  in  Atha,  the  troubler  of  the  field.  High, 
i.  :i;eii  mifty  hill,  look  forth  the  blue  eyes  of  Erin, 
Is  tc.r  away,  young  dweller  of  their  fouls  Nor, 
efs,  white  hands  of  Erin  !  is  he  in  the   feints  of 

x ;  he  rolls  tenthoufand  before  him,  in  his  diftant  i 

field." 

-•NotunfeenbyOffian,"Ifaid,  "rufliedCathmorfrom 
his  ftreams,  when  he  poured  his  ftrength  on  I-thorno  ff , 
ifie  of  many  waves.  In  ftrife  met  two  kings  in  I-thor- 
no, Culgorm  and  Suran-dronlo  :  each  from  his  echo- 
ing ifie,  ftern  hunters  of  the  boar  ! 
.  "  They  met  a  boar,  at  a  foamy  ftream :  each  pierced 


by  .■;•'.  .11 


ready  to  niark< 

)ut  remote  ■ 

mtiquity,  as 

rhi»,  perhaps,  is 

extending  o 

that  knowledge 

in  a  erf  at 

mankind:    and  that  the  mini 

r.adj  upon  the  n 

lanners  of  diffe.ent  men 

y  of  Fingul, 

a,  delivered 

•     e  Sera  pi  01 

ignorant  hu 

nter,  confin- 

alt  parts  of 

ic;n.'i,.:o.ia, 

ent  dates  of  G 

:t  fuch  a  charact 

neifguifed  m?m 

kind.     War, 
foul,  prefent 

lor   want  of 
lei  rtion  1 

11  the  artifi- 

of  Sul-malla 

.    After  the 

ould  appear,  firqaa  the  partiality  wit* 

h*d  feen  him  previous  to  his  joining 
y  alTerts,  that  it  was  after  his  return, 


..  ).,■.  was  an  ifland  of  Scandinavia.     In  it,  :.f  a  hunting 

,.'.',       "..  '...■:,:    i,rHii-i'-onlM.tJ)e  king-,  of  two  licit'';':  cur',  :-.y  i!','  .       I    icy 

lling  a  boar;  and  a  war  was  Kindled  between  them, 
may  Warn,  thai   the  manners  of  ,Ue  Scandinavians  were 
r.iuivi   l.ort   i.iv'.ii.  and  cru-.l,  than  thofe   of  Britain.     It  is  remarkable,  that  the 
jv.tuO,  introdui  ■:-.'.  l  .  this  ilory,  ar~  not  ff  (i-ilit  origin;  1,  which  circumftance  3.U 
lords  room  to  i'upyofe,tuat  it  had  its  foundation  in  true  hiitory. 


A  POEM.  S6£ 

it  With  his  fteel.  They  llrove  for  the  fame  of  the 
deed  :  and  gloomy  battle  role.  From  ifle  to  ifle  they 
fcnt  a  fpear,  broken  and  ftained  with  blood,  to  cail  the 
friends  of  thei-  fathers,  in  their  founding  arms.  Cath- 
mor  came  from  Bolga,  to  Culgorm,  red-eyed  king  :  I 
aided  Suran-dronlo,  in  his  land  of  boars." 

"  We  ru  filed  on  either  fid''  of  a  fh  earn,  which  roared 
through  a  blafted  heath.  High  broken  rocks  were 
round,  with  all  their  bending  trees.  Near  are  two  cir- 
cles of  Loda,  with  the  fton?  of  power ;  where  fpirits 
defcended,  by  night,'in  dark-red  ftxeams  of  fire.  There, 
mixed  with  the  murmur  of  waters,  role  the  voice  o£ 
aged  men,  they  called  the  forms  of  night,  to  aid  them 
in  their  War. 

"  Heedl  fsf  I  flood,  with  my  people,  where  fell  the 
foamy  fcream  from  rocks.  The  moon  moved  red 
from  the  mountain.  My  fong,  at  times,  arofe.  Dark 
on  the  other  fide,  young  Ca'hmor  heard  my  voice  ; 
for  he  lay,  beneath  the  oak,  in  ail  his  gleaming  areas. 
Morning  came ;  we  ruftied  to  fight :  from  ving  to 
wing  in  the  rolling  ef  ftrife.  They  fell,  like  the  thiftle 
head,  beneath  autumnal  winds. 

"  In  armour  came  a  {lately  form:  I  mixed  my  firokes 
With  the  king.  By  turns  our  fnields  are  pierced:  loud 
rung  our  fteely  mails.  His  helmet  fell  to  the  ground. 
In  brightnefs  fhone  the  foe.  His  eyes,  two  pleafant 
flames,  rolled  between  his  wandering  locks.  I  knew 
the  king  of  Atha,  and  threw  my  fpear  on  earth.  Dark, 
we  turned,  and  filent  patted  to  mix  with  other  ^ces. 

"  Not  fo  palled  the  firiving  kings  ||.    They  mixed  hi 
echoing  fray  ;  like   the  meeting  of  ghofts,  in  the  dark 
wing  of  winds.      Through  either  brealt  ruflied  the 
S  3 

t  From  the  drcumflance  of  Oflian  not  being  prefelit  at  thf  rite?,  de&ribed  in  the 
precedir.i?  rag--.j<h,  we  may  fuppofe  tha  he  I-.e'c  :''.e-n  ;n  contempt.  T..^.;.r.j- 
rerv:e  of  reatiment,  with  regard  to  reli^  .  1.  is  .1  ''or:  uf  ar<v!ment,  that  the  Cale- 
<!  -■>    <      ;  iv;  or:<rin;.!!v- a  coliiyot    >    .     .  ne  have  imagined. 

Co  ling  fo  remote  a  iod,  mere  conjecture  mutt  fu.jpi- .  . ..  pla;e  of  argument 
an,:         _;ve  proofs. 

i.  Coigorai  and  Snran-di  >r.l->.  The  combat  of  the  kings  and  their  a:  itude  ia 
death  are  higbiy  p:c'.u-ei>y  •,  and  exprelfivc  of  UiaUaocUv  of  siauners,  which  di. 
Jlingihhed  toe  nwitheru  nstioas, 


£C6  SUL-MALLA  OF  LUMON  : 

fpt"'S  :.  nor  yet  lay  the  foes  on  earth.  A  rock  receiv- 
ed their  hYil ;  and  half-reclined  they  lay  in  death.  Each 
hekl  the  lock  of  his  foe  ,  and  grimly  teemed  to  roll  his 
eyes.  The  fire  am  of  the  rock  leapt  on  their  fhields, 
and  mixed  below  with  blood. 

"  The  battle  ceafed  in  I-thorno.  The  ftrangers  met 
In  peace  :  Cathmor  from  Atha  of  ftreams,  and  Gffian, 
king  of  harps.  We  placed  the  dead  in  earth.  Our 
iteps  were  by  Runar's  bay.  With  the  bounding  boat, 
afar,  advanced  a  ridgy  wave.  Dark  was  the  rider  or. 
feas,  but  a  beam  of  light  was  there,  like  the  ray  of  the 
fun,  in  Strcmlo's  rolling  fmoke.  It  was  the  daughter  f 
cf  Suran-dronlo,  wild  in  brightened  looks.  Her  eyes 
were  wandering  flames,  amidfl  difordered  locks.  For- 
ward is  her  white  arm,  with  the  fpear  ;  her  high-heav- 
ing breaft  is  feen,  white  as  foamy  waves  that  rife,  by 
turns,  amidft  rocks.  They  are  beautiful,  but  they  are 
terrible,  and  mariners  call  the  winds." 

"  Come,  ye  dwellers  of  Loda  !  Carchar,  pale  in  the 
midft  of  clouds  !  Slufchmor,  that  ftrideft  in  airy  halls  ! 
Ccrchtur,  terrible  in  winds  !  Receive,  from  his  daugh- 
ter's ipear,  the  foes  of  Suran-dronlo. 

"  No  fhadow,  at  his  roa;  i:ig  ftreams ;  no  mildly -look- 
ing form  was  he !    When  he  took  up  his  fpear,  the 

+  Tradition  ha^  handed  down  the  name  of  thispvincefs.  The  bards  rail  h*r  Ru- 
l»Q-forlo,  yhich  has  n  •    of  title  for  being  genuine,  but  its  not  Uin;>  of 

<:      ,   ,.■  ■ .. -v.,  ;-,   v,:::il-  the  b.:rd*  had  nit  the  art  to  prefciv:-  when 

i  ■  :  j  higWwidSenacliveSj  m*o  very  <  t  c,  ,n- 

■  \"  '  the, tan  *te«ofSuran-d*Qato.    The 

<.;.    •■.     o    I      ;•  I"      i.nnat.ir:  1,  ,'r.d  'be   iin.un.fi  .nces  Ofit  ft)  lidiculouily  Ji  om;\  i,b, 

h  inceof  Runo-forlo,  n   idea  deep  iinpreffion  en,  3 

,     rmnfe'.r   no  contempt    K-  ;-.vi.     V.v Rory  in  -.0- 


J  be  wiju'.^hov.LM-r,  drove  him froai  the coz»,  and.     'tcr  a  •«.     .'..-■ 

ucein  bt.'tUnd.   There  his  puiTion  'm:t.  in'        :i.       ..  .  ■     .      . 

of  his  friend:,,  tearing  the  confio,  en.  e,  I'aiied  to  iht  Orku)  -.,'.'■         '•   t  • 

•  ,.  ilire.     .';  on  iai  uw\  On  j  6  on  found   :•.■»■  n  pi  ,    nd  eai   id 

■  'ei.  thief;    lut  r.itrk  his  furjinfe.  when,  inltemt  '  ot  a  ia\  01    :i 

:  v.r  woman,  mine  than  middle  apcd.appearim',  before  ni-i 

-  .   e-:ils  tbi:  Uwy;  Lut  it  Blay  be.   ;-~n!)  :,oo  vl>iJ.  Uu»w  tiic  ;-,oiU 

*fiief  fu.jii  iUbliiitd. 


A    POEM.  207 

hawks  ihook  their  founding  wings:  for  blood  was  pour- 
ed around  the  fleps  of  dark-eyed  Suran-dronloJ 

"  He  lighted  me,  no  hannlcfs  beam,  to  glitter  on  his 
llreanis.  Like  meteors,  I  was  bright,  but  I  biafltd 
the  foes  of  Suran-dronlo"  *     t     *     *     *     *     * 

Nor  unconcerned  heard  Sul-malla,  the  praife  of  Cath- 
mor  of  fhields.  He  was  within  her  foul,  like  a  fire  in 
fecret  heath,  which  awakes  at  the  voice  of  the  blaft,  and 
fends  its  beam  abroad.  Amidft  the  fong  removed  the 
daughter  of  kings,  like  the  foft  found  of  a  fummer- 
breeze  ;  when  it  lifts  the  heads  of  flowers,  and  curls  the 
lakes  and  ftreams. 

By  night  came  a  dream  to  Ofuan,  without  form  flood 
the  fhadow  ofTrenmor.  He  feemed  to  ftrike  the  dim 
fnield,  on  Selma's  ftreamy  rock.  I  rofe,  in  my  rattling 
fteel ;  I  knew  that  war  was  near.  Before  the  winds 
our  fails  were  fpread  ;  when  Lumon  (hewed  its  ftreams 
to  the  morn. 

Come  from  the  watching  of  night,  Maivma,  Icndy 
beam  1 


CATH-LODA: 

A   POEM. 

THE  ARGUMENT, 
tinea!,  in  one  of  his  voyages  to  the  Orkney  iflands,  was  driven,  by  ftrefs  of  wea* 
ther,  into  a  bay  of  Scandinavia,  near  the  refuience  of  Starno,  king  of  Lochlin. 
Starno  invites  Fingal  to  a  feaft.  Fingal.  doubting  the  faith  of  the  king,  and 
mindful  cr  his  former  breach  of  hofpitality,  (Fingal,  B.  III.)  refufes  to  go.  Star- 
no  gathers  together  hi.  riles;  Fingal  ie<blves  to  defend  himfelf.  Night  coming 
<on,r<uth-Ti;ii-'ino  propoiVj  to  Fingal,  toobferve  the  molions  of  the  enemy.  The 
king himfelf  undertake- the  uauh.  Advancing  towards  the  enemy,  he  accident- 
ally, fines  to  the  cave  ot  Turthir.-,  where  Starno  had  confined  Conban-carglas* 
the  captive  daughter  of  a  neighbouring  chief.  Herftory  is  imperfect,  a  part  of 
the  original  being  lolf.  Fir.gal  comes  to  a  place  of  worfhip,  where  Starno,  and 
fiisfon  Swaran,  confulted  the  fpirit  of  Loda,  concerning  the  iffuc  ot  the  war. 
'I  he  rencounter  of  Fineal  and  >war:-.n.  J  he  Duan  concludes  with  a  defcription 
of  the  airy  hall  of  Cruthloda,  fuppofed  to  be  the  Odin  of  Scandinavia. 

DUANf  FIRST. 

A  tale  of  the  times  of  old  !  Why  thou  wanderer 
■*"*  unfeen,  that  bendeft  the  thiftle  of  Lora,  why,  thou 
breeze  of  the  valley,  haft  thou  left  mine  ear  ?  I  hear  no 
diftant  roar  of  ftreams,  no  found  of  the  harp,  from  the 
rocks  !  Come,  thou  huntrefs  of  Lutha,  fend  back  his  foul 
to  the  bard. 

I  look  forward  to  Lochlin  of  lakes,  to  the  dark,  rid- 
gy bay  of  U-thorno,  where  Fingal  defcended  from  o- 
cean,  from  the  roar  of  winds.  Few  are  the  heroes  of 
Morven,  in  a  land  unknown  !  Starno  fent  a  dweller  of 


+  The  bards  diftinguifhed  thofe  compi 

terra,. tod,  by  epiloocs  and  npoltniph.--, 
tic  :i  i  i"  the  oulcr  of  the  bards,  it  has  i.e-c 
tions  in  verfe.    The  abrupt  manner  in  wl 
der  it  obfeu  e  to  fome  readers;  it  may  i 

ifitions,  in  which  the  nana 

by  the  name  of  Duan.    Sii 
n  a  general  name  tor  all  a: 

t:on  is  often  in- 

trp.btic:  al  preface,  winch  is  generally  t 

win            -.,ar:..,  the  6.  ■n-h'cr  of  Corn.'; 

ic,  kit  g  of  Ireland,  Finga 

fmdunSkm 

exp.  union  into  0'  kntv,  to  vifit  tvs  frio 
in;;  a  ,cw  da\ .,  a'  Larric-thura.  the  rr-nc 

r.d  CathuUa,  kingeflnifl 
lenceofCathulla,  the  ki  ig 

re.     After  nay- 
l  into  a  bay  of 

reigiibonrir.e  tril  cr.  n.d  a<'\  ai  ccd,  in  a  ; 

SffS^ZSiS 

a  owed  enemy. 
d  together  the 

by  openforce.    He 

airus,    i  he  ftuuel  pf  tie  ftorj  may  be  ltiurjieO  from  the  poem  itielj". 


A    POEM.  ao^ 

Loth,  to  bid  Fingal  to  the  U-3.il :  but  the  king  remexn*; 
bered  the  pail,  and  ail  liis  rage  arofe. 

"Nor  Gormal's  mofiy  towers;  nor  Starno  fhall  Fingal 
behold.  Deaths  wander,  like  ihadows,  over  his  fiery- 
foul.  Do  I  forget  that  beam  of  light,  the  white-handed 
daughterf  of  kings  ?  Go,  fon  of  Loda  ;  his  wore  5  are 
but  blafts  to  Fingal:  blalts,  that,  to  and  fro,  red  the 
thiftles  in  autumnal  vales. 

"  Dnth-maruno  ||,  arm  of  death!  Cromma-glas,  of  i- 
ron  fliit  Ids  !  Struthmor,  dweller  of  battle's  wing  !  Cor- 
niar,  whole  fhips  bound  on  feas,  carelefs  as  the  courfe  of 
a  meteor,  on  dark-ftreaming  clouds  !  Arife,  around  me, 
children  of  heroes,  in  a  land  unknown.  Let  each  look 
on  his  fnield,  like  Trenmor,  the  ruler  of  battles.  "Come 
down,"  faid  the  king,  "  thou  dweller  between  the 
harps.  Thou  (halt  roll  this  ftrearn  away,  or  dwell  with 
me  in  earth." 

Around  him  they  rcfe  in  wrath.  No  words  came 
forth  :  they  feized  their  fpears.  Each  foul  is  roiled  in- 
to itfelf  At  length  the  fudden  clang  is  waked,  on  all 
their  echoing  fhields.  Each  took  his  hill,  by  night  j  at 
int.  rvals,  they  darkly  flood.  Unequal  burft  the  hum  of 
fengs,  between  the  roaring  wind.  Broad  over  them 
role  the  moon.  In  his  arms,  came  tail  Duth-maruno ; 
he  from  Croma- chain  of  rocks,  ftern  hunter  of  the 
boar.  In  his  dark  boat  he  rofe  on  waves,  when  Crum- 
thormoth  %  awaked  its  woods.  In  the  chafe  he  fhone, 
among  his  foes  :  No  fear  was  thine,  Duth-maruno. 

"Son  of  Comhal,"  he  laid,  "my  fteps  (hall he  forward 

+  A~ndecca,  the  daughter  of  Starnq,  whom  her  father  killed,  on  account  of  her 
diftovcr.ng  to  Kingal,  a  plot  l3itl  a^dinlt  his  life,  iiei  :iory  is  rcl<acd  ;;;  lurge,  in, 
the  ih.rd  book  of  Fingal. 

||  Duth-maruno  is  a  name  very  famous  in  tradition.     Many  of  his  great  acUons 
are  handed  down,  but  the  poems  which  cont  ined  the  detail  <  i  -....•...  a: .  i  v% 
fince  loii.     He  lived,  it  is  luppofed,  in  that  part  of  the  north  ■  f  ;.cot;  .■. 
is  over  agaiail  Orkney.    Duth-maruno,  C  nmor,  and  corn  ;.r, 

are  mentioned,  asattendir.g  Comhai,  in  hi  the  tribe  of  Morni, 

inavoein,  which  is  ttill  preferved.     It  is  not  the  «  e  phraieolo- 

gv'oetraysit  to  be  a  modern  co;np»hLii-r..    U  is  f  !:.:e\h:i.<;  !.&e  thole  '.... 
politions,  which  the  Iriifc  bard,  forged,  und  :r  the  i  :..:e  of  Uiriar ,  •:.  the  fiflev..itr» 
and  fixteenth centuries    Duth-maruno figr  , 

«  bending .'.nd  fwartty  i'   btruthmor,  '  roarim;  ftream:'   Cuiniar', '  expert  at  ica.' 

H  Crumthorsnoth,  one  of  the  Orkney  or  shetUnd  islands.     1  he  name 
Ga'oc  original.    It  v.a.i  fubject  to  as  jw:i  i>euy  wing,  v.  ..o  is  mentioned  in  oue  uS 
OSUb's  pueins. 


alo  cattj-lodA  : 

through  night.  From  this  fhield  I  fhall  view  them,  o- 
ver  their  gleaming  tribes.  Starnc,  of  lakes,  is  before 
me,  and  Sw  aran,  the  foe  of  flrangers.  Their  words  are 
not  in  vain,  by  Loda's  ftone  of  power.  If  Duth  ma- 
runo  returns  not,  his  fpoufe  is  lonely,  at  home,  where 
meet  two  roaring  flreams,  on  Crathmo-craulo's  plain. 
Around  are  hiiis,  with  their  woods  ;  the  ocean  is  rolling 
near.  My  fon  looks  on  fcreaming  fea-fowl,  young  wan- 
derer of  the  field.  Give  the  head  of  a  boar  to  Can  do- 
na f,  tell  him  of  his  father's  joy,  when  the  briflly 
fhrength  of  I-thomo  rolled  on  his  lifted  fpear." 
.:  "  Not  forgetting  my  fathers,"  faid  Tingal,  "  I  have 
bounded  over  ridgy  feas,  theirs  was  the  times  of  dan- 
ger in  the  days  of  old.  Nor  gathers  darknefs  on  me, 
before  foes,  though  I  am  young,  in  my  locks.  Chief 
cf  Crathmo-craulo,  the  field  of  night  is  mine." 

He  rufhed,  in  all  his  arms,  wide- bounding  over  Tur- 
t'ncr's  ftream,  that  fent  its  fuUcn  roar,  by  night,  through 
Gut-maTs  mifty  vale.  A  moon-beam  glittered  on  a  rock: 
in  the  midft,  flood  a  Itately  form  ;  a  form  with  floating 
locks,  like  Lochlin's  white-bofomed  maid.     Unequal 

|  Cean-daona,  '  head  of  the  people,'  the  fon  of  Duth-maruno.  He  became  af. 
teru  ante  famous,  in  the  expeditions  of  Offian,  after  the  death  of  Fingal.  The  tra- 
ditional tales  concerning  him  are  very  numerous,  and,  from  the  epithet,  in  them, 
bellowed  on  him  (Can-dona  of  boarsj  it  would  ;i\  pear,  that  he  appl.ed  himfelf  to 
that  kind  of  hunting,  which  his  father,  in  this  paragraph,  isfo  ar.x.ous  to  recom- 
mend to  him.  As  I  have  mentioned  the  traditional  tales  of  the  highlands,  it  may 
not  be  improper  here,  to  give  fome  account  of  them.  After  the  expulfion  of  the 
bards,  from  the  houfes  of  the  chiefs,  they  being  an  indolent  race  of  men,  owed 
all  their  fubliftence  to  the  gencrofity  of  the  vulgar,  whom  they  diverted  with  re- 
peating the  compofitions  of  their  prcdcceffors,  and  running  up  the  genealogies  of 
theii  entertainers  to  the  family  of  their  chiefs.  As  this  fubject  was,  however, 
i'oon  exhauited,  they  were  obliged  to  have  rccourfe  to  invention,  and  Form  ftories 
having  no  foundation  in  fact,  which  were  fwallowed,  with  great  credulity,  by  an 
ignorant  multitude.  By  frequent  repeating,  the  fable  grew  up.'ti  their  hards,  and, 
as  each  thiew  ,n  whatc\  er  cirtunutance  he  thought  conducive  to  raife  the  admi- 
ration of  his  hearers,  the  fturv  became,  at  '.alt,  fo  devoid  of  all  pn  bability,  that 
even  the  vulgar  themfeh'es  did  not  believe  it.  They,  however,  liked  the  tales  fo 
well,  that  the  bards  found  Uit;  r  ad- anla^e  in  turning  yrofciTed  tale-makers.  They 
then  launched  out  into  the  wildeft  regions  of  fiftion  and  romance.  1  firmly  be- 
lieve there  are  more  ftories  of  giants,  inchanted  caities,  dwarfs,  and  palfreys,  in 
the  highlands,  than  in  any  country  in  Europe.  Thefe tales,  it  iseei  tain,  lil.e  other 
romantic  compofitions,  ha\e  manv  thine.*  in  them  unnatural,  and,  confequently, 
difquMtul  to  truetalie;  but.  i  know  not  how  .<  ha  •  -j-.s.  thev  command  -Mention 
more  than  any  other  fiaions  1  ever  met  with.  The  extreme  length  of  thefe  pieces 
is  very  furprifing,  fome  of  them  reouiring  many  days  to  repeat  them,  but  fuch 
hold  they  take  of  the  memory,  that  few  circumstances  are  .vcr  omitted  bv  thofe 
who  have  recei\c<i  ihem  only  from  oval  tradition:  What  is  more  amazing,  the  very 
language  of  the  bards  is  ftill  preferved.  It  is  curious  to  fee,  that  the  dtfcriptior.s 
cf  magnificence,  introduced  in  thefe  tales,  ia  even  fupcrior  to  all  the  pompous  ori. 
ratal  fictions  of  the  kind. 


A   POEM,  111 

are  her  fteps,  and  fhort :  fhe  throws  a  broken  fong  on 
wind.  At  times  fhe  toffes  her  white  arms :  for  grief  is 
in  her  foul. 

"  Torcul-torno  f,  of  aged  locks  !  where  now  are  thy 
fteps,  by  Lulan  ?  thou  haft  failed,  at  thine  own  dark 
ftreams,  father  of  Conban-carglas  !  But  I  behold  thee, 
chief  of  Lulan,  fporting  by  Loda's  hall,  when  the  dark- 
ikirted  night  is  poured  along  the  iky. 

"Thou,  fometimes,  hideft  the  moon,  -with  thy  fhield. 
I  have  feen  her  dim  in  heaven.  Thou  kindleft  thy  hair 
into  meteors,  and  faiieft  along  the  night*  Why  am  I 
forgot  in  my  cave,  king  of  lhaggy  boars  ?  Look  from 
the  hall  of  Loda,  on  lonely  Conban-carglas." 

"  Who  art  thou,"  faid  Fingal,  "voice  of  night?"  She 
trembling,  turned  away.  "  Who  art  thou,  in  thy  dark- 
nefs  ?"  She  (hrunk  into  the  cave.  The  king  loofed  the 
thong  from  her  hands  :  he  afked  about  her  fathers. 

" Torcul-torno,"  fhe  faid,  "once  dwelt  at  Lulan's 
foamy  ftream :  he  dwelt— but,  now,  in  Loda's  hall, 
lie  fhakes  the  founding  fhell.  He  met  Starno  of  Lochlin, 
in  battle  ;  long  fought  the  dark-eyed  kings.  My  fa- 
ther fell,  at  length,  blue-fhielded  Torcubtorno. 

"By  a  rock,  at  Lulan's  ftream,  I  hadpierced  the  bound- 
ing roe.  My  whitehand  gathered  my  hair,  from  off 
the  ftream  of  winds.  I  heard  a  noife.  Mine  eyes  were 
up.  My  foft  breaft  role  on  high.  My  ftep  was  for- 
ward, at  Lulan,  to  meet  thee,  Torcul-torno  ! 

t  Torcul-torno,  according  to  tradition,  was  kins  of  Crath'un,  adiftrictin  Swe- 
den. Tee  river  Luiun  ra:i  near  the  refidence  of  I  or.al-to-no.  lucre  is  .'.river 
in  Sweden,  hail  called  I.ula,  which  is  probably  the  fame  with  Lulan.  The  war  be- 
tween Staruo  atic  foratl-tomo,  which  terminated  in  the  death  of  the  latter,  hid 
Its  rife,  at  a  bunting  party  Starno  being  invited,  in  a  friendly  manner,  bv  To-- 
tul-torno,  L'Oih  kin.;.,  with  their  followers,  vcnl  t.>  tr.e  :tv>-.;nta'>n-  of  stivtimor.to 
bunt.  A  boar  named  from  the  wood  before  the  kintji,  and  rorcul-tor-ao  killed  it. 
Starno  thought  this  nehaciour  a  breach  upon  the  privilcK-eof  Ruei.a,  who  were  ai, 
ways  honoured,  astrati'.ton  exii'd-.-  >'.,  with  the  danger  of  rhe  chafe.  A  quarrel 
arofe,  the  king-'  came  tohittle,  with  .11  thc-ir  attend .1:1  ts,  and  the  party  of  Torcuu 
torr.o  were  totally  defeated,  and  he  Inmfeit  iiain.  starno  purfucd  his  victory, 
laid  wane  the  diilri-t  of  t'rathlun,  and  umiiu,-  to  the  refidence  of  Toroul-tora  .•, 
carried  off,  by  force,  Conban-carglas,  the  beautiful  d...ighter  or  hisenemy.  Her  he 
confined  in  a  cave,  near  the  palace  of  Gorrnal,  wtcxe,  on  account  of  ier  i-ruel 
treatment,  me  became  detracted. 

The  oar,  •siraDh  juit  now  before  us,  isthe  foil-;  of  Conban-carglas,  at  the  time  (he 
was  difcovered  bv  c'im;al.  It  i,  in  lyric  m  tafure,  and  let  to  muiic,  u  hich  is  wild 
and  Ample,  and  t\<  inimitably  laivew  ;u  'Ji i  tttUali'jr.  ji  the  cuCi'Pp     luJy,  tiiSt  iiw 

«xb  Kr*t .:  ttT.Uj-l  i*«;fc. 


Ill  CATH-LODA: 

"  It  was  Starno,  dreadful  king !  His  red  eyes  relied  on 
Conban-carglas.  Dark  waved  his  fhaggy  brow,  above 
his  gathered  fmile.  Where  is  my  father,  I  faid,  he  that 
was  mighty  in  war  ?  Thou  art  left  alone  among  foes, 
daughter  of  Torcul  torno  ! 

"  He  took  my  hand.  He  raifed  the  fail.  In  this  cave 
he  placed  me  dark.  At  times,  he  comes,  a  gathered 
mift.  He  lifts  before  me,  my  father's  fhield.  Often 
paffes  a  beamf  of  youth,  far-diftant  from  my  cave. 
He  dwells  lonely  in  the  foul  of  the  daughter  of  Torcul- 
tcrno." 

"  Maid  of  Lilian,"  faid  Fingal,  "  white-handed  Con- 
ban-carglas  ;  a  cloud,  marked  with  ftreaks  of  fire,  is 
relied  along  thy  foul.  Look  not  to  that  dark-robed 
rnccn  ;  nor  yet  to  thofe  meteors  of  heaven  ;  my  gleam- 
ing fteel  is  around  thee,  daughter  of  Torcul  torno. 

"  it  is  ftot  the  fteel  of  the  feeble,  nor  of  the  dark  in  foul. 
The  maids  are  not  fhut  in  our  |j  caves  of  ftreams  ;  nor 
toffing  their  white  arms  alone.  They  bend,  fair  with- 
in their  locks,  above  the  harps  of  Selma.  Their  voice  is 
not  in  thedefert  wild,  young  light  of  Torcul-torno." 


Fingal,  again,  advanced  his  fteps,  wide  through  the 
hofom  of  night,  to  where  the  trees  of  Lcda  (hook  a- 
mid  fqually  winds.  Three  {tones,  with  heads  of  mofs, 
are  there  ;  a  ftream,  with  foaming  courfe  ;  and  dread- 
ful, rolled  around  them,  is  the  dark-red  cloud  of  Loda. 
From  its  top  looked  forward  a  ghoft,  half-formed  of  the 
fhadowy  fmoke.  He  poured  his  voice,  at  times,  amidft 
the  roaring  ftream.  Near,  bending  beneath,  a  Mailed 
tree,  two  heroes  received  his  words:  Swaran  of  the  lakes, 
and  Starno  fee  of  ftrangers.     On  their  dun  fhields,  they 


re  much  It-fs  harbarous 
uighout  the  poems  of 
i  manners  of  both  iu. 
j  tUeieis  agveatpait 


A    POEM.  21? 

cfetfMy  leaned:  their  fpears  are  forward  in  night.  jShnl! 
founds  theblaftof  darknefs,  in  Stamo,i  floating  b  ard. 

They  heard  the  tread  of  Fingal.  The  v.  arriors  rofc 
in  arms.  "  Swaran,  lay  that  wanderer  low,"  faid  Star- 
no,  in  his  price.  "Take  the  fhleld  of  thy  father  ;  ;;  is 
a  rock  in  war."  Swaran  threw  his  gi<  .  ring  bear  ;  it 
Hood  fixed  in  Lcda's  tree.  The;-  came  the  4  es  for- 
ward, with  fwords.  They  mixed  ih.-v  rattihig  Heel. 
Through  the  thongs  of  Sw  ar;  iflied  the  blade 

f  cf  Luno.  The  ihield  fell  rolling  on  earth.  Cleft  the 
helmet  jj  fell  down.  Fingal  ftopt  .  ted  fteel.  Wrath- 
ful flood  Swaran  unarmed.  He  rolled  his  filent  eyes, 
and  threw  his  fword  on  earth.  Then,  flowly  ftafking 
over  the  ftream,  lie  whittled  as  he  went. 

Nor  unfeen  of  his  father  is  Swaran.  Starno  turned 
away  in  wrath.  His  fhaggy  brows  waved  dark,  above 
his  gathered  rage.  He  ftruek  Loda's  tree,  with  his 
fpear  ;  be  raifed  the  hum  of  longs.  They  came  to  the 
hoft  of  Lochlin,  each  in  his  own  dark  path  ;  like  two 
foam-covered  ftreams,  from  two  rainy  vales. 

To  Turthor's  plain  Fingal  returned.  Fair  rofe  the 
beam  of  the  ea.il.  It  fhone  on  the  fpcils  of  Lochlin  in 
the  Laud  of  the  king.  From  her  cave  came  forth,  in 
her  beauty,  the  daughter  of  Torcul-torno.  She  gather- 
ed her  hair  from  wind  ;  and  wildly  railed  her  fong. 
The  fong  of  Lulan  of  fhells,  where  once  her  father 
dwelt. 

She  few  Starno's  bloody  fhield.  Gladnefs  rofe,  a  light 
on  her  face.  She  few  the  cleft  helmet  of  Swaran  t ; 
(he  fhrunk,  darkened,  from  the  king.     "  Art  thou  fal- 

Vol.  II.  T 


t  The  rw  •  7<f  cf  Fiiipil,  to  called  from  itsmnker,  I.uno  of  I.ochlin. 
rmt;^L.!-!,r«.i:ar..     i  he  behaviour  •  f  I'ingal  is  always  confiftent  with 
thai  genm  :itv  o:  11  ;  it  which  belongs  to  a  hero.     Ue  takes  no  advantage  o;  a  foe 
diiarined. 

1  Cci^r.-c-.r --.-,  from  feeing  the  helmet  of  Swaran  bloody  :n  the  hands  of  Fin- 

iw«s  killed.     A  part  of  the  origin;.!  is  loll.     It  ap- 

■".  •      '    ...ci.-'Mii.t  '.ne  poem,  that  me  daughter  of  Torcul-torno 

did  not  lo:  -  :  .-.  -      •■..    _,    ccaiioned  by  the  fuppofed  death  of  her  lover. 

.   um  of  the  airy  hall  of  Loda  (which  is  fcppoied  to  be  the  fjme  with. 

that  of  Od::.,  t.\c   V.  ;-.  ..•  j.  .r..:.ri  -.a,  <i  more  picturei'que  aua  deicriptive*  Utaa 

.a^y  lotti  £Cua,  yr  utter  vvjiki  01  tlie  ttortUcru; takers. 


ai4  CATH-LODA:    A  POEM, 

len,  by  thy  hundred  fireams,  O  love  of  Conban-ca«- 
frlas  !" 


U-thorno,  that  rifeft  in  waters ;  on  whofe  fide  are 
the  meteors  of  night !  I  behold  the  dark  moon  defend- 
ing behind  thy  echoing  woods.  On  thy  top  dwells  the 
milty  Loda,  the  houfe  of  the  fpirits  of  men.  In  the  end 
of  his  cloudy  hail  bends  forward  Cruth-loda  of  fwords. 
His  form  is  dimly  feen,  amidft  his  wavy  milt.  His 
right-hand  is  en  his  fhield  :  in  his  left  is  the  half  view- 
iefs  Ihell.  The  roof  of  his  dreadful  hall  is  marked  with, 
nightly  fires. 

The  race  of  Cruth-loda  advance,  a  ridge  of  fcrmlefs 
ihades.  He  reaches  the  founding  ihell,  to  thofe  who 
fhene  in  war ;  but,  between  him  and  the  feeble,  his 
fbield  rifes,  a  crult  of  darknefs.  He  is  a  fetting  meteor 
to  the  weak  in  arms.  Bright,  as  a  rainbow  on  flreams^ 
came  white -armed  Conban-carglas. 


C  ATH-LOD  A; 

A    POEM. 


THE  ARGUMENT. 

Rngal  returning;,  with  day,  devolves  the  command  of  the  army  on  TVith-marf  ft<r, 
who  enK.it.e-,  the  enemy,  and  drives  them  over  the  ftreani  of  Turthor.  Filial, 
after  recalling  hi-.  •  eop'.c,  ci>r.g.-,.tu!ates  Duth-maruno  on  hi.-,  fiu,.  ,-.'p.i  :  :'.  >-■ 
vers  that  thai  hero  was  moi  tally  wounded  in  the  engagement.  Duth-maruno 
dies.  Ullin,  the  bard, ill  honour  ot  the  dead,  introduces  the  enifodc.  of  Colgoraa 
and  swina-dona,  with  which  the  Duan  concludes. 

DUAN  SECOND. 

*«  TIJ'HERE  art  thou,fon  of  the  king?"  faid  dark-haired 
**  Duth-maruno.  "  Where  haft  thou  faiied>  young 
beam  of  Selma  ?  He  returns  not  from  the  boiom  of 
night !  Morning  is  lpread  on  U-thorno  :  in  his  mill  is 
the  fun,  on  his  hi!!.  Warriors,  lift  the  ftnelds,  in  my 
prefence.  He  mull  not  fall,  like  a  fire  from  heaven, 
whole  place  is  not  marked  on  the  ground.  He  comes 
like  an  eagle,  from  the  fkirt  of  his  fqually  wind  !  In  his 
hand  are  the  ipoils  of  foes.  King  of  Selma,  our  fouls 
were  fad." 

"  Near  us  are  the  foes,  Duth-maruno.  They  come 
forward,  like  waves  in  mill,  when  their  foamy  tops  are 
feen,  at  times,  above  the  low-failing  vapour.  The  tra- 
veller fhrinks  on  his  journey,  and  knows  not  whither 
to  fly.  No  trembling  travellers  are  we  !  Sons  of  he- 
roes, call  forth  the  fleel.  Shall  the  fword  of  Fingal  a- 
rife,  or  lhall  a  warrior  lead  ?" 

The  t  deeds  of  old,  faid  Duth-maruno,  are  like  paths 

T   2 

•f  In  thir.  ftiort  epifnete  we  have  a  very  piobaMe  account  given  us,  of  the  origin 

>  i.e  Cael,  or  Gauls,  who   p.iiTeTed  the  countries  to 

then  :  I   [iriburgh,  were,  origiiially,  a  nuu»bflr  of  diftir«a  trrbes, 

it.  own  i  hief,  who  was  :"rt.e  and  indepen   s 


waded  them,  the  common  danger  might,  perhaps. 

- .  unwilling  to  yield  to 

the  en-.-.  .  r.  ler,  their  battles  were  ill-conducled,  and, 

.1.     1  reniiior  was  the  firtt  who  reorefenfed  to  the  chiefc, 

tie  bad  cOnfcqucncei  of  carrying  on  their  wars  in  this  irregular  manner,  and  aftilC 


ai6  CATH-LODA: 

to  our  eyes,  O  Fingal !  Broad-fnielded  Trenmor  is  ftill 
feai,  smidfl  his  own  dim  years.  Nor  feeble  was  the 
foul  of  the  king.  There,  no  dark  deed  wandered  in 
fecret.  From  their  hundred  ftreams  came  the  tribes, 
to  grafly  Cclglan-crona.  Their  chiefs  were  before  them. 
Each  {trove  to  lead  the  war.  Their  fwords  were  often 
half-unfheathed.  Red  rolled  their  eyes  of  rage.  Sepa- 
rate they  flood,  and  hummed  their  furly  fongs.  "  Why 
fhould  they  yield  to  each  other  ?  their  fathers  were  e- 
tjual  in  war." 

Trenmor  was  there,  with  his  people,  fiately  in  youth- 
ful locks.  He  faw  the  advancing  foe.  The  grief  of 
his  foul  arofe.  He  bade  the  chiefs  to  lead,  by  turns : 
they  led,  but  they  were  rolled  away.  From  his  own 
mofTy  hill,  blue-fhielded  Trenmor  came  down.  He  led 
wide-fkirted  battle,  and  the  ftrangers  failed.  Around 
him  the  dark-browed  warriors  came  :  they  ftruck  the 
Shield  of  joy.  Like  a  pleafant  gale,  the  words  of  power 
rufhed  forth  from  Selma  of  kings.  But  the  chiefs  fled, 
by  turns,  in  war,  till  mighty  danger  "ofe  :  then  was  the 
hour  of  the  king  to  conquer  in  the  f  eld. 

"Not  unknown,"  faid  Cromma-glasf  of  fhields,  "are 

ed,  that  they  themfelves  mould  alternately  lead  in  battle.  They  dirt  fo,  but  they 
wr-nMi  eceffful.  When  it  c:\:r  ■  .  >  Trcnni.ir's  turn,  he  totally  defeated  theene- 
my,  by  !.:.-.  fuyerior  valour  and  cm. duel,  which  g-  ined  him  :u.li  an  interelt  among 
the  tribe-  he,  and  hi .  family  after  h;m,  were  ;  egarded  a-  ki»e>  ;  or,  toufethe 

poet'-  e.v^rc^or.,  "  the  words  of  power  rufhed  forth  from  Selma  of  kings."  The 
recal  authority,  however,  except  in  time  of  war,  was  but  inconlidera'de;  for 
every  chief,  within  his  own  diftrict,  was  abfolute  and  independent.  From  the 
f<<  of  til."  battle  in  this  eyifode  (which  v.  as  in  the  valley  of  Crona,  a  little  to 
the  north  of  Agricola's  wall)  I  fhould  fuppufe  that  the  enemies  of  the  Caledonians 
were  the  Romans,  or  provincial  Britons. 

t  fn  tradition,  this  Crom»a-glas  makes  a  great  figure  in  that  battle  which  Com- 
hal  loft,  together  with  his  life,  to  the  tribe  of  Morni.  I  have  ju<t  now,  in  my 
hands,  an  lrifh  compofition,  of  a  very  modern  datej  as  appears  from  the  language, 
in  which  all  the  tradition-,  concerning  that  d?  ill  e  c:!~'n:;ement,  are  jumbled  to- 
gether. In  jultice  to  the  merit  of  the  poem,  I  fhould  have  here  p  cfented  to  the 
reader  a  tranflation  of  it.did  not  the  bsrd  mention  f.imc  ci  -i-imiitarn  es  verv  ridicu- 
lous, and  others  altogether  indecent.  Morna,  the  wire  .  <  i  oi.iha",  had  a  nriminal 
band  in  all  the  tranfactions,  previous  to  the  defeat  and  deah  of  tier  hufhand  ;  fhc, 
to  ufe  the  words  of  the  bard, 
The  bard,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  1 
behaviour  was,  according,  to 
be  fuppofed,  they  had  chofen  her  for  t: 
hy  ftanzas.  The  language  is  figjra 
piece  is  fofuli  of  anachronifms,  a 
moll  undoubtedly,  was  cither  mi    „ 

being  remarked,  that  Comhal,  is  in  this  poem,  very  often  called,  Comhal  n_  .. 
Albin,  or  Comhal  of  Albion.  Which  fuiikiently  deiiionltrates,  that  ttic  allegations 


)  was  the  gaidin?  Par  of  -he  u  omen  of  Ei in." 
refented  the  ladies  of  his  country,  for  Morna'3 
j  void  of  all  decency  and  virtue,  that  it  cannot 
>r  their  guiding  ftar.    The  coern  con  fift .  of  ma- 
ative,  and  th-  numbers  harmonious;   hut  the 

or  drunk,  wli 

its  com:  our 
en  he  wroti 

Jit!    It' 

:  the  author, 
is  worthy  of 

A   POEM.  it? 

the  deeds  of  our  fathers.  But  who  fhafl  now  lead  the 
war,  before  the  race  of  tings  ?  Mift  fettles  on  tliefe  four 
dark  hills:  within  it  I  ike  hisJhield. 

iri  darknefs,  an  I  mark  us  for  the 
war."  They  went,  each  to  his  hili  of  mift.  Bards 
rtifcrked  the  ibunds  of  the  fhields.  Lbudeft  rung  thy 
bofs,  Duth-maruno.     Thou  mull  lead  in  war. 

Like  the  mtirmur  of  waters,  the  race  of  U-thorno 
came  down.     !  2  battle,  and  Swaranojf  ftor- 

my  ifles.  They  looked  forward  from  iron  fnields,  like 
Cruth-loda  fiery-eyed,  when  he  looks  from  behind  the 
darkened  moon,  arid  ftrews  his  figns  on  night. 

.  oes  met  by  Tui  thor's  ftream.  They  heaved  like 
ridgy  waves.  Their  echoing  ftrokes  are  mixed.  Sha- 
dowy death  hies  over  the  hofls.  They  were  clouds  of 
haih  v,  ith  fqually  winds  in  their  ficirts.  Their  fhowers 
are  roaring  together.  Below  them  fweiis  the  dark-rol- 
ling deep. 

t  trife  of  gloomy  U-thorna,  why  fhculd  I  mark  thy 
wounds  ?  Thou  art  with  the  years  that  are  gone  :  thou 
fad  ell  en  my  foul.  Starno  brought  forward  his  fkirt 
of  war,  and  Swaran  his  own  dark  wing.  Noraharm- 
Ilefs  fire  is  Duth-maruno's  fword.  Lcchlin  is  rolled  o- 
ver  her  dreams'.  The  wrathful  kings  are  folded  in 
hts.  They  roll  their  filent  eyes,  over  the  night  of 
their  land.  The  horn  of  Fingal  was  heard  :  the  fons  of 
woody  Aihlon  returned.  But  many  lay,  by  Turthor's 
flream,  filent  in  their  blood. 

"  Chief  of  Crom-charn,"  faid  the  king,  "Duth-maru- 

nojhonter  of  boars !  not  harmlefs  returns  my  eagle,from 

the  field  of  foes.     For  this  white-bofomed  Lanul  fhall 

a,   at  her  fireams ;    Can-dona  fhall  rejoice,   at 

Ci  aihmo  cranio." 

*<Co!  jjorm  ;,'''  replied  the  chief,  "  was  trie  firft  of  my 
T  5 

of  Keating  and  OTlaherty,  concerning  Fion  Mac-Comnal,  are  but  of  late  inven- 
tion. 

1   I  tve  fainih  <-'»  [)i't:%'nri'r.\:i  a;iavs  :ime  uririnsllv  frnm  Scandinavia,  at 

ucr.:ef,  to  the  kintfs  ->f  Lochlm. 

i  lie  iijj  >l4Ud  ->.  -....,>,  „Lv  „»,!>,.  »'llT;U  ;o  u^w  tfiiitf  cwi4iw»t..u.i,adu  ***»**~ 


ai8  CATK-LODAt 

race  In  Albion ;  Colgorm,  the  rider  of  ocean*  through  its 
watery  vales.  He  flew  his  brother  in  I-thorno  :  lie  left 
the  land  of  his  fathers.  He  chofe  his  place,  in  filence, 
by  rocky  Crathmo-craulo.  His  race  carne  forth,  in 
their  years ;  they  came  forth  to  war,  but  they  always 
fell.  The  wound  of  my  fathers  is  mine,  king  of  echo- 
ing ifles  !" 

He  drew  an  arrow  from  his  fide.  He  fell  pale,  in  a 
land  unknown.  His  foul  came  forth  to  his  fathers,  to 
their  ftormy  ifle.  There  they  purfued  boars  of  mift,  a- 
long  the  fkirts  of  winds.  The  chiefs  flood  filent  a- 
round,  as  the  ftones  of  Loda,  on  their  hill.  The  tra- 
veller fees  them  through  the  twilight,  from  his  lonely 
path.  He  thinks  them  the  ghofls  of  the  aged,  form' 
ing  future  wars. 

Night  came  down  on  U-thorno.  Still  flood  the  chiefs 
in  their  grief.  The  blaft  hified,  by  turns,  through  e- 
very  warrior's  hair.  Fingal,  at  length,  burfted  forth 
from  the  thoughts  of  his  foul.  He  called  Ullin  of  harps, 
and  bade  the  fong  to  rife.  No  failing  fire,  that  is  only 
feen,  and  then  retires  in  night ,  no  departing  meteor 
was  Crathmo-craulo's  chief.  He  was  like  the  ftrong- 
beaming  fun,  long  rejoicing  on  his  hill.  Call  the  names 
of  his  fathers,  from  their  dwellings  old. 

I-thorno f,  faid  the  bard,  that  rifeft  midft  ridgy  feas! 
Why  is  thy  head  fc  gloomy,  in  the  ocean's  mift  ?  From 
thy  vales,  came  forth  a  race,  fearlefs  as  thy  ftrong  wing- 
ed eagles;  the  race  of  Colgorm  of  iron  ihields,  dwellers 
of  Loda's  hall. 

lions  to,  the  works  of  Offian,  have  tfven  us  alone  lift  rf  the  anceftors  of  Duth- 
ffiaruno,  and  a  prrti<  -.ilsr  f-ieoimt  i.r  their  acUo'ni,  m:»nv  of  which  are  of  the  mar., 
vellou-.  kind.   One  ot  m-  la'.c-mahers  of  the  nu:th  has  chofen  for  hi:  hero,  Starn- 

be  has  led  hi;n,  the  pif.ee  i'.  ticith.r  d;i:*i:re_aMs:,  nor  .;bi  ..ruiii.R  w  lb.  that  kind  of 
fiction,  which  fnoclcs  credibility. 

t  ThUepifuiie  is,  in  the  u.j^inai,  extremely  beautiful.  It  is  fet  to  that  wild 
kind  of  mulii,  \.  i.ich  fome  of  ;hi  i  tic  Markers  iliitinguifti,  by  the  title  of '  hm  Oi- 


ful.  From  t 
Scandinavia, 
reputed  the  a: 


iny  r 


<>cu£  of  8  C.licwriginat, except  jt.'.ni.ilc&aj  which  fignifies 


A  P05M.  219 

In  Torraoth's  refounding  ifle,  aroie  Lurthan,  ftreamy 
hill.  It  beat  its  woody  head  above  a  fileut  vale.  There 
at  foarav  Cruruth's  fource,  dwelt  Rurmar,  hunter  of 
boars.  His  daughter  was  fair  as  a  fun-beam,  white- 
bofomed  Strina-dona  ! 

Many  a  king  of  heroes,  and  hero  of  iron  fnields ;  ma- 
ny a  youth  of  heavy  locks  came  to  Rurmar's  echoing 
hall.  They  came  to  woo  the  maid,  the  ftately  hun- 
trefs  of  Toi  moth  wild.  But  thou  lookeft  carelefs  from 
thy  fleps,  high-bofomed  Strina-dona  ! 

If  on  the  heath  me  moved,  her  breaft  was  whiter  than 
the  down  oi:  Cana  f ;  if  on  the  fea-beat  more,  than  the 
foam  of  the  rolling  ocean.  Her  eyes  were  two  ftarsof 
light ;  her  face  was  heaven's  bow  in  mowers  ;  her  dark 
hair  Bowed  round  it,  like  the  ftreaming  clouds.  Thou 
vert  the  dweller  of  fouls,  white-handed  Strina-dona  ! 

Colgorm  cane,  in  his  (hip,  and  Corcul-furan,  king  of 
fheiis.  The  brothers  came,  from  I-thorno,  to  woo  the 
fun-beam  of  Tormoth's  ifle.  She  law  them  in  their  e- 
thoing  ftic!.  Her  foul  was  fixed  on  blue-eyed  Colgorm. 
Ul-lochlin's  :|  niglitly  eye  looked  in,  and  faw  the  tolling 
arras  of  Strina-dona. 

Wrathful  the  brothers  frowned.  Their  flaming  eyes 
in  filence  met.  They  turned  away.  They  ibruck  their 
fhields.  Their  hands  were  trembling  on  their  fWords. 
They  rufhed  into  the  ftrife  of  heroes,  for  long  haired 
Strina-dona. 

Corcul-furan  fell  in  blood.  On  his  ifle,  raged  the 
h  of  his  father.  He  turned  Colgorm,  from  I- 
thornc,  to  wander  on  all  the  winds.  In  Crathmo-crau- 
lo's  rooky  field,  lie  dwelt,  by  a  foreign  ftream.  Nor 
dark  :ned  the  king  a'one,  that  beam  of  light  was  near, 
the  daughter  of  echoing  Torrnoih,  white -armed  Strina* 
dona.  % 

t  The  C  ina  is-  certain  k'.r.Z  of  £~~Si.  which  grows  plentifully  in  the  heathy  mo- 
tzXzs  or"  c.e  ..urt::.     lu  :Uik  it  o!  tbe  reedy  KinJ,  and  it  carries  a  tuft  of  down,  ire- 

ry  .1  .•  .a  -;i'fi!.';inq  ration.     It  is  '.••u'edn-ely  wliite,  and,  coufev-ientiy,  oKvii  111- 
trn(l.io:d  '.'•  t»te  i>a,d>,  :•!  t   eir  ;i  sulics  c.r.x  .ermn;t  the  0.  aac>  u!  Wjiiicn. 


jji  ioc  ilin,  :  1  ■  r^Ue  Co  l.rhha  ;  the  nv.i 
H' 


:i;Miou<«f  iliiseuifole  isj  ilt  nowin   rny  hands;    hut  th ;  l?.r~i'i^e 
.    [ml  th:  j -.1  e:\sfoun\rQrthS  i»i  O-Ii-11,  UyUl  bftfC  «()&«:»  it,  41 
*»»  uusr^o  Uao»  ft j  a  aiou«r-  J*xd.  * 


CATH-LODA: 

A     P  O  E  II. 


TI!E   ARGUMENT. 

e-r-1  v.r.rn:..-;  ,  infill  -.-.   i:  ■■  i'-vcti-.m  of  Fin;::l.  and  tte 


DUAN  THIRD. 

"^TJhf.nce  is  the  ftream  cf  years  ?   Whither  do  they 

**     roll  along?  Where  have  they  hid,  in  mift,  their 

many-coloured  fides  ?  I  loci-:  into  the  times  of  old,  but 

.'  ■  m  dim  to  Cfitaa's  eyes,  like  reflected  mccn- 

beams,  on  a  diflant  lake.     Here  rife  the  red  beams  of 

war  !  1  here,  filent,  dwells  a  feeble  race  !  They  mark 

;    s   with  their  deeds,  as  fiow  they 'pafs  along. 

r  1  etween  the  (hield    ;    thcu  that  awakeft  the 

n  fchy  wall,  harp  of  Ccna,  with 

Oices  three!    Come  with  that  which  kindles  the 

p"a$  :  rear  the  forms  of  old,  en  their  own  dark-brown. 

years  ! 

U-thorno  f,  hill  of  ftorras,  I  beheld  my  race  on  thy 


A    POEM.  11X 

fide.  Fingal  is  bending,  in  night,  over  Duth-mannm's 
tomb.  Near  him  are  the  fteps  of  his  heroes,  hun- 
ters of  the  boa".  By  Turthor's  ftream  the  hofl  of 
Lochlin  is  deep  in  (hades.  The  wrathful  kings  flood 
on  two  hills  ;  they  looked  forward  from  their  boffy 
fhields.  They  looked  forward  on  the  ftars  of  night, 
red  wanderin-  in  the  weft.  Cruth-loda  bends  from 
high,  like  (s  meteor  in  clouds.     He  fends  a- 

broad  the  winds,  and  marks  them,  with  his  figns. 
Starno  forefaw,  that  Morven's  king  was  never  to  yield 
in  war. 

He  twice  [brick  the  tree  in  wrath.  He  rufhed  before 
his  fon.  I  [e  hi  mmed  a  furly  fong  ;  and  heard  his  hair 
in  wind.  Turned  t  from  one  another,  they  flood,  like 
two  oaks,  which  different  winds  had  bent ;  each  hangs 
over  its  own  loud  rill,  and  fhakes  its  boughs  in  the  courle 
of  blafts. 

"  Amur,"  laid  Starno  of  lakes,  "  was  a  fire  that  con- 
fumed  of  old.  He  poured  death  from  his  eyes,  along  the 
ffriving  fields.  His  joy  was  in  the  fall  of  men.  Blood 
to  him,  was  a  rammer  ftream,  that  brings  joy  to  wi- 
thered vales,  from  its  own  moffv  rock.  He  came  forth 
to  the  lake  Luth-cormo,  to  meet  the  tall  Corman-tru- 
na_,  he  from  Urlor  of  ftreams,  dweller  of  battle's  wing." 

The  chief  of  Urlor  had  come  to  Cormul,  with  his 
dark-boforrr:d  {hips;  he  faw  the  daughter  of  Annir, 
white-armed  Foinar-bragal.  He  faw  her  :  nor  carelefs 
rolled  her  <?ve%  on  the  rider  of  ftormy  waves.  Ske 
fled  to  hi':  (hip  in  darknefs,  like  a  moon-beam  through  a 
nightly  vale.  Annir  puriaed  along  the  deep  ;  he  called 
the  winds  of  heaven.  Nor  alone  was  the  kin  j  ;  Star- 
no  was  by  his  fide.  Like  U-thorno's  young  eagle,  I 
turned  my  eyes  on  my  father. 

cecded  f.i  muc'i  r.  V'-.ief,  that  the  good  poet  altogether  loft  fight  of  h:»  principal 
aaioa,  and  h?  en  :-  [he  piece,  with  an  advice  to  men,  in  the  choice  of  -.heir  wives, 
»-h*  h,  however  £  <4  it  may  be,  1  (hail  leave  concealed  in  the  obfeurity  of  the  ori- 
ginal. 

t  The  f-.ir!v    ■■:    •  '_•  ■  f  s>am  i  and  vvavan  i^  well  r.dapted  to  their  fierce  and  un. 

compl.-iiicd:!  •    1-:  <n>.     '1  J«;ir  characters,  at  tirh  fi»ht,  fecm  little  d  ff:rent ;  but, 

■'■:   fird  that  the  poet  h:is  dcxierjui",)-  diliia-uifhcd  betweea 

taem.      The r  w  -re  h-v-h  dark,  iluj^orn,   haughty,  and  referved  ;   l>at  s.3r-u  «-a 

tfmaMfereveageful,  aiid  cruel,  to  tue  JughtU  degree ;  the  difpulitiou  oi"  swaran, 


221  CATH-LODA: 

We  came  to  roaring  Urlor.  With  his  people  came 
tall  Corman-trunar.  We  fought  ;  but  the  fee  prevail- 
ed. In  his  wrath  Hood  Annir  of  lakes.  He  lopped 
the  young  trees,  with  his  fword.  Kis  eyes  rolled  red  in 
his  rage.  I  marked  the  Ibid  of  the  king,  and  I  retired 
in  night.  From  the  held  I  took  a  broken  helmet :  a 
fhield  that  Mas  pierced  with  fteel  :  pointlefs  was  the 
fpear  in  my  hand.     I  went  to  find  the  foe. 

On  a  rock  fat  tall  Corman-trunar,  befide  his  burn- 
ing oak  ;  and  near  him,  beneath  a  tree,  fat  deep-bofom- 
ed  Foinar-bragal.  I  threw  my  broken  fhield  before 
her  ;  and  fpoke  the  words  of  peace.  Belide  his  rolling 
fea,  lies  Annir  of  many  lakes.  The  king  was  pierced 
in  battle  ;  and  Starno  is  to  raife  his  tomb.  Me,  a  fon 
of  Loda,  he  fends  to  white-handed  Foinar-bragal,  to 
bid  her  fend  a  lock  from  her  hair,  to  reft  with  her  father, 
in  earth.  And  thou  king  of  roaring  Urlor,  let  the  bat- 
tle ceafe,  till  Annir  receive  the  fhell,  from  fiery-eyed 
Cruth-loda. 

Bfirfting  f  into  tears,  fhe  rofe,  and  tore  a  lock  from 
her  hair ;  a  lock,  which  wandered,  in  the  Halt,  along  her 
heaving  breaft.  Corman-trunar  gave  the  fhell;  and 
hade  me  to  rejoice  before  him.  I  relied  in  the  (hade  of 
night ;  and  hid  my  face  in  my  helmet  deep.  Sleep 
defcended  en  the  foe.  I  rofe,  like  a  ftalking  ghoft.  I 
pierced  the  fide  of  Corman-trunar.  Nor  did  Foinar- 
bragal  fefcape.  She  rolled  her  white  boforh  in  blood. 
Why  then  daughter  of  heroes,  did:'!  thou  wake  my 
Morning  rofe.  The  foe  were  fled,  like  the  de- 
parture of  mint.  Annir  ftruck  Lis  boffy  fhield.  He 
called  his  dark-haired  fon.  I  came,  h.eoked  with  wan- 
dering blcod  :  thrice  rofe  the  fhout  of  the  king,  like  the 
burfling  forth  of  a  fquall  of  wind,  from  a  cloud,  by 
night.     We  rejoiced,  three  days,  above  the  dead,  and 

thourh  favp.ro.  v>-  ' •■<"- '.!  •■■dv,  ar.I  f  r.:cwl>at  Cr.ifai'  :-i*.  v  th  cenercfity.     It  isdo- 
t.'  <  eat  variety  ofchara&ers 

-'..:■>    ■  '..-■■  .      :i:k\.     O.t.n  ;:.,;  (;   ,  ,-,..r  of  cruel  Annir,  the 

-  iiofe  difagreeable  cha- 

reacrs  fi>  ; .  laei   Lender  and  delicate.     Homer, 

!lV  ..>.......  ..  ......    .       :   .    di.i  ii.n*  empt  is,  even 

v.rfe,  it.an  !l:e  dun  nr.ght  aL'u.e  oi   .:.;]:....,...;    ior   i.-..  uii-w  abuie  implies  Ihc 

.JN-'a-Jui.  wfiume  merit. 


a  poem.  aaj 

called  the  hawks  of  heaver,.  They  came,  from  all  their 
winds,  to  feaft  on  Amur's  foes.  Swaran  !  Fjngalis  a- 
lonef,  on  his  hill  of  night.  Let  thy  fpear  pierce  the 
king  in  fee-ret j  like  Annir,  my  foul  ihall  rejoice. 

*'  Son  of  Annir  of  Gormal,  Swaran  fliall  not  flay  in 
fhades.  I  move  forth  in  light :  the  hawks  rum  from 
all  their  winds.  They  are  wont  to  trace  my  courie  : 
it  is  not  harmkfs  through  war." 

Burning  refe  the  rage  of  the  king.  He  thrice  raifed 
his  gleaming  fpear.  But  ftarting,  he  fpared  his  fon  ; 
and  rufhed  into  the  night.  By  Turthor's  ilream  a  cave 
is  dark,  the  dv  lling  of  Conban-carglas.  There  he  laid 
the  helmet  of  kings,  and  called  the  maid  ofLulan,  but 
fhe  was  difiant  far,  in  Loda's  refounding  hall. 

Swelli  he  ftrode,  to  where  Fingal  lay  a- 

lone.  The  ki  ig  was  laid  on  his  fliield,  on  his  own  fe- 
cret hill.  St  rn  hunter  of  fhaggy  boars,  no  feeble  maid 
is  laid  b«  to  boy,  on  his  ferny  bed,  by  Tur- 

thor's murmuring  ilream.  Here  is  fpread  the  couch  of 
the  mighty,  from  which  they  rile  to  deeds  of  deaths 
Hunter  c fib  aggy  boars  awaken  not  the  tea 

Starno  came  murmuring  on.  Fingal  arofeinarms. 
«'  Who  art  thou,  fon  of  night?"  Silent  he  threw  the 
fpear.  They  mixed  their  gloomy  ftrife.  The  flikld  of 
Starno  fell,  cleft  in  twain.  lie  h  bound  to  an  oak.  The 
early  beam  -re1?.  Then  Fingal  beheld  the  king  of  Gor- 
mal. He  rolled  a  while  his  filent  eyes.  He  thought  of  o- 
ther  day  indecca  moved  like 

the  mullc  of  tonga.  He  i  fe  I  ;he  thong  from  his 
hands.  ",  he  faid,  retire.     Retire  to  Gor- 

mal or  fr.'h-:  a  beam  that  xwas  fet  returns.  I  remem- 
ber thy  white-bofomed  daughter  ;  dreadful  king,  away  ! 
Go  to  thy  troubled  dwelling,  cloudy  foe  of  the  love- 
1  !  Let  the  ftran  jer  fhun  thee,  thou  gloomy  in  the 
hall ! 

A  TAL7.  of  the  times  of  old  i 

+  Fingal,  ?.c-.-(-r.":-,T  'o  the  Ciihir.i  of  ih?  Ca'ic  Innnn  kin<7%  hv'  retired  to  ■»  btU 

■-      -        -    L    >i 

r-onv.^tit  -.  .  occasions  hip  re- 

••■■:•■  .n  t  ■>  i'.ab  h;;n  :  as  he  forefaw,  by  hi  j  aj  ■    i»i...uid 


OINA-MORUL: 
A    P  O  E  M. 


As 


THE    ARGUMENT. 
i  addrefsto  Malvina,  the  daughter  of  Tricar, 


flies  the  inccmftant  fun,  over  Larmoo's  graffy 
hill ;  fo  pafs  the  tales  of  eld,  along  my  foul,  by 
night.  When  bards  are  removed  to  their  place  ;  when 
haips  are  hung  in  Sehna's  hall  ;  then  comes  a  voice  to 
Ofiian,  and  awakes  his  foul.  It  is  the  voice  of  years 
that  are  gone  :  they  roll  before  me,  with  all  their  deeds. 
I  feize  the  tales,  as  they  pafs,  and  pour  them  forth  in 
fong.  Nor  a  troubled  fire  am  is  the  ioi:g  of  the  king, 
it  is  like  the  rifing  of  mufic  from  Lutha  ri  the  firings. 
Lutha  of  many  firings,  not  filent  are  thy  ftreamy  rocks, 
•when  thejwhite  hands  of  Malvina  move  upon  the  harp. 
Light  of  the  fhadowy  thoughts,  that  fiy  acrofs  my  foul, 
daughter  of  Tofcar  of  helmets,  wilt  thcu  not  hear  the 
fong !  We  call  back,  maid  of  Lutha,  the  years  that  have 
roiled  away  ! 

It  was  in  the  days  of  the  kingf,  while  yet  my  locks 
were  young,  that  I  marked  Con-cathlin  ji,  on  high, 
from  ocean's  nightly  wave.  My  courfe  was  towards 
the  ifle  of  Fuarfed,  woody  dweller  of  fczs.     Fingal  had 

■f  Fingal. 

||  Con-cathlin,  '  mild  bcEm  of  the  v.  ave.'    Wli.-it  <t?.r  v..'  fo  called  of  old  is  not 
eafil}  alec,  tau.ed.     Some   now  nifin  r:,\r    <\c  \    :•    (..-•-  name.     A  fong, 

which  is  flill  in  repute,  rmonr,  'he  1-  .   '     •    -  -    ;       M  ■i:<k-:«,  alludes  tu 

this  pafh.ge  of  Offian.     The  auth ."■  •■.    ;  '  . ■.  c»iT>t    in  fea  af. 

fairs,  a  merit,  uhkh,  per  I- a  r ■.,  low  .  r  -■    m..,t.  n;-,  v.-iil  al!-".i   l.;:v,,  or  any  in  the 

their  vrr.\  thiough  thrdaiif-:.-  .   -which  is 

vtniurr.      I  r  ci';i:i  ..t.i!'  ■] .-.  ■  ('.  .-•    .,■■-:%,  ,  ;!.f.  ;,:  rienrs,  ue 

ought  not   towing  it    into  cm,  ;    .,-,■.'    ■>  ■•  :<    <]:•-   ••  yi.  •■<■:   .  rts  .-..  modern  times. 
'•UT-  bdvautagesovvrthwii  j  lotijto  n.vn  ;'ro:i.  -u-cicii.t,  rhaa  ; ;.y  nicrii  cf  trtirs. 


A   POEM.  %%t; 

lent  me  to  the  aid  of  Mal-orchol,  king  of  FuSrfed  wild: 
for  war  was  around  him,  and  our  fathers  had  met,  at 
the  feaft. 

In  Col-coiled,  I  hound  my  fails,  and  fent  my  fword  to 
Mal-archol  of  (hells.  He  knew  the  fignal  of  Albion, 
and  his  joy  arofe.  He  came  from  his  own  high  hall, 
and  feized  my  hand  in  grief.  "  Why  comes  the  race 
of  heroes  to  a  falling  king  ?  Ton-thonnod  of  many 
fpears  is  the  chief  of  wavy  Sar-drohlo.  He  faw  and 
loved  my  daughter  white-bol'omed  Oina-morul.  He 
fought ;  I  denied  the  maid  ;  for  our  fathers  had  teen 
foes.  He  came,  with  battle,  to  Fuarfed,  My  people 
are  rolled  away.  Why  comes  the  race  of  heroes  to  a 
failing  king  ?" 

I  come  not,  I  faid,  to  look,  like  a  boy,  on  the  ftrife. 
Fingal  remembers  Mal-orchol,  and  his'  hall  for  Gran- 
gers. From  his  waves,  the  warrior  defcended,  on  thy 
woody  ifle.  Thou  wert  no  cloud  before  him.  Thy 
feaft  was  fpread  with  fongs.  For  this  my  fword  fhall 
rife  ;  and  thy  foes  perhaps  may  fail.  Our  friends  are 
not  forgot  in  their  danger,  though  diftant  is  our  land. 

"  Son  of  the  daring  Trenmor,  thy  words  are  like  the 
voice  of  Cruth-loda,  when  he  {peaks,  from  his  parting 
cloud,  firong  dweller  of  the  Iky  !  Many  have  rejoiced 
at  my  feaft ;  but  they  all  have  forgot  Mal-orchol.  I 
have  looked  towards  ail  the  winds,  but  no  white  fails 
were  feen.  But  iteel f  refounds  in  my  hall;  and  not 
the  joyful  fliells.     Come  to  my  dwelling,  race  of  he- 

Vol.  II.  U 


i  There  is  a  fevere  fatire  couched  ia  this  expreflion,  again  ft  the  s«iiefts  of  Mal- 
BrcboL  Had  his  feait  been  ftill  fpread,  had  joy  continued  in  his  hali,  his  former 
paraiites  would  no;  have  failed  t»  refort  to  kir...  But  as  the  timeof  feftivit\  was 
j>iit,  their  attemlar.ee  alii)  ceaOed.  The  fentimenis  of  a  certain  old  h^rd  are  a- 
fcrteable  to  this  obfervation.  He,  poetically  comparesa  qreat  na,  to  ?  fv.  kiv'!:d 
in  a  defert  plcsce.  "  i'hol'e  that  pay  court  to  him,  fays  he,  are  rolling  lar,:c  urou:.  I 
him,  l:k.e:he  ftnoke  about  cae  fire.  This  fmoke  gives  the  fire  a  Rrca  a;-,_'ar;l:ua 
at  a  di'tance,  *>ut  it  is  but  an  empty  vapour  itfelf,  and  vanir.g  its  ir.r.n  .-.  every 
breeze.  When  the  trunk  which  fed  tue  rire  isconfurued,  the  Or.nk?  fie -■:-»  M  on 
v.(l  the  winds.  So  the  flatterers  furfafce  their  chief,  when  his  power  decliti .  "  t 
t'ave  cliofen  to  tfive  a  nanphrafe,  rp.therthan  a  transition,  of  tnis  palia^e,  as  the 
Ofspnal  Is  ve:bo(e  anri  frothy,  :i<vt«-ithtandjng  of  the  fcnlimental  merit  •:{  the 
aaCSar.     He  w;s  i,nt  of  the  lei's  a.icient  bards,  and  Utfir cocpoteUoaj  are  u«i  jyr. 


QW  5i-i*i  tu  bt«  a  lily:*!  UiaJkUOU* 


iz€>  oin'A^morul: 

roes ;  dark-fkirted  night  is  near.     Hear  the  voice  of 
fongs,. from  the  maid  ofFuarfed  wild." 

We  went.  On  the  harp  arofe  the  white  hands  of 
Oina-tnorul.  She  waked  her  own  fad  tale,  from  every 
trembling  firing,  I  flood  in  filence;  for  bright  in  her 
locks  was  the  daughter  of  many  ifies.  Her  eyes  were 
like  two  flars,  looking  forward  through  a  naming 
fhower.  The  mariner  marks  them  on  high,  and  blef- 
fes  the  lovely  beams.  With  morning  we  rufhed  to 
battle,  to  Tcrmul's  refounding  fiream  :  the  foe  moved 
to  the  found  of  Ton-thormod  s  boffy  fhield.  Frpm 
wing  to  wing  the  ilrife  was  mixed.  I  met  the  chief  of 
Sar-drcnlo.  Wide  flew  his  broken  fleel.  I  ftizedthe 
king  in  fight.  I  gave  his  hand,  bound  faft  with  thongs, 
to  Mal-crchol,  the  giver  of  (hells.  Joy  rofe  at  the  feaft 
cf  Fuarfed,  for  the  foe  had  failed.  Ton-thormod 
turned  his  face  away,  from  Oina-morul  of  ifles. 

"  Son  of  Fingal," begun  Mal-orchol,  "not  forgot  {halt 
thou  pais  from  me.  A  light  fhall  dwell  in  thy  (hip. 
Qina  morul  of  flow- rolling  eyes.  She  fhall  kindle  glad- 
nefs,  along  thy  mighty  foul.  Nor  unheaded  fhall  the 
maid  move  in  Selma>  through  the  dwelling  of  kings. 

In  the  hall  I  lay  in  night.  Mine  eyes  were  half  clof- 
ed  in  fleep.  Soft  muflc  came  to  mine  ear  :  it  was  like 
the  riling  breeze,  that  whirls,  at  firit,  the  thiflle's 
beard  ;  then  flies,  dark -fhadowy,  over  the  grafs.  It 
was  the  maid  of  Fuarfed  wild:  file  raifed  the  nightly 
fong  ;  for  fhe  knew  that  my  foul  was  a  fiream,  that 
flowed  atpleafant  four. ' '. 

"  Who  locks,"  flie  faid,  "  from  his  rock,  on  ocean's 
clofmg  mill?  His  long  locks,  like  the  raven's  wing,  are 
wandering  on  the  blail.  Stately  are  his  fleps  in  grief. 
The  tears  are  in  his  eyes.  His  manly  brcaft  is  heav- 
ing over  his  burfiing  foul.  Retire,  I  am  diflant  far  ; 
a  wanderer  in  lands  unknown.  Though  the  race 
of  kings  are  around  me,  yet  my  foul  is  dark.  Why 
have  our  fathers  been  foes,  Ton-thormod  love  of 
maids  !" 

"  Soft  voice  of  the  flreamy  hie,  why  dofl  thou  mourn 


A    POEM. 

by  rvght  ?  The  race  of  daring  Trenmor  are  not  the 
dark  in  foul.  Thou  fhalt  not  wander,  by  ftreams  un- 
known, blue  eyed  Oina-morul.     Within  this  bofom  is 

a  voice  ;  it  comes  not  to  other  ears  ;  it  bids  Offian 
hear  tlie  haplefs  in  their  hour  of  wo.  Retire,  foft 
finger  by  night  !  Tcn-thormod  fhall  not  mourn  on  his 
rock." 

With  morning  I  loofed  the  king.  I  gave  the  long- 
haired maid.  Mal-drchol  heard  my  word?,  La  the 
midit  of  his  echoing  halls.  "  King  of  Fuarfed  wild, 
why  mould  Ton-thormod  mourn  ?  He  is  of  the  race  of 
heroes,  and  a  flame  in  war.  Your  fathers  have  been, 
foes,  but  now  their  dim  ghoiis  rejoice  in  death.  They 
ftretch  their  arms  of  niift  to  the  fame  fneil  in  Loch. 
Forget  their  rage,  ye  warriors !  it  was  the  cloud  of  o- 
ther  years." 

Suci  were  the  deeds  of  Offian,  while  yet  his  locks 
were  young:  though  Jovelinefs,  with  a  robe  of  beams, 
clothed  the  daughter  of  many  ides.  We  caH  back, 
maid  of  Lutha,  the  years  that  have  rolled  away  ! 

U  % 


COLNA-DONA: 

A    POEM. 

THE   ARGUMENT 

Fingal  difpatchesOflian  and  Tofcar,  to  raife  a  ftore,on  the  banks  of  the  flream  of 
Crona,  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  a  victory,  which  he  had  obtained  in  that 
place.  When  they  were  employed  in  thai  «  ork,  Car.ui,  a  neighbouring  chief j 
invited  them  to  a  tealt.  They  went :  and  i  ofcar  fell  defperatelv  in  love  with 
Cnlna-dona,  th*  daughter  of  Car.ui.    Colna-dona  became  no  left  enamoured  of 

"  Tofcar.    An  incident,at  a  hunting  party, brings  their  loves  to  a  happy  ilTue. 

r"OL-AMON  f  of  troubled  ftreams,  dark  wanderer  of 
^  diflant  vales,  I  behold  thy  courfe,  between  trees, 
near  Car -ill's  echoing  halls.  There  dwelt  bright  Col- 
na-dona, the  daughter  of  the  king*,  Her  eyes  were  rol- 
ling ftars ;  her  arms  were  white  as  the  foam  of  ftreams. 
Her  breaft  rofe  flowly  to  fight,  like  ocean's  heaving 
wave.  Her  foul  was  a  ftream  of  light.  Who,  among 
the  maids,  was  like  the  love  of  heroes  ? 

Beneath  the  voice  of  the  king,  we  moved  to  Crona  [| 
of  the  ftreams,  Tofcar  of  grafly  Lutha,  and  Oman, 
young  in  fields.  Three  bards  attended  with  fongs. 
Three  bciTy  ihields  were  borne  before  us  :  for  we  were 
to  rear  the  fione,  in  memory  of  the  paft.  By  Crona's 
moiTy  courfe,  Fingal  had  Scattered  his  foes :  he  had 

t  Colna-dpnafirnifics  the  love  of  heroes.  Cr.l.amon,  '  narrow  river.'  Car-ul, 
*  dark-eyed.'  Col-amon,  the  refidence  o; 'C-:r-ul,  was  in  the  neighbourhood  of  A- 
Kricola's  wall,  tow  ards  the  iouth.  Car-ul  feems  to  have  been  of  the  race  of  thofe 
Britons,  who  are  diltmguiflied  by  the  name  of  Mai:;t£,  by  the  writers  of  Rome. 
3vlaiat<e  is  derived  irora  two  Galic  words,'  Mei.'a  plain,  and'  Aitich,' inhabitants  ; 
fo  that  the  fignification  of  MaiatxH,  tire  inhabitants  of  the  plain  country  ;  a  name 
given  to  the  Briton;,  who  were  fettled  in  the  low-land-.,  in  contradiliiiiclion  to 
the  Caledonians,  (i.  e. 'Cad-Don,'  the  Gauls  of  the  hii-Isj  who  wer*  pofi'efTed  of 
the  more  mountainous  division  of  North-Britain. 

||  Crona, '  murmuring,'  was  the  name  of  a  fmall  ftream.  which  difcharged  itfelf 
in  th-:  rherCarron.  It  is  ofrtn  mentioned  by  Ofiian.and  tne  fceneSof  many  of  his 
poems  are  on  its  banks.  The  enemies,  whom  Fingal  defeated  here  are  not  men- 
tioned. They  w-crr,  pmhably,  the  nro\incial  Britons.  That  trait  of  country  be. 
tween  the  Friths  o  Forth  and  Clyde  I.  :s  heir.,  through  all  antiquity,  famous  for 
battles  and  rencounters,  betwen  the  different  nations,  who  were  pofleffed  of  North 
and  South  Britain.  Stirling, a  tour,  lituaicd  there. derhes  its  ua:i;C  from  that  very 
circumnance.  It  is  a  corruption  of  the  Ualic  name,  *  Strila,'  i.  e.  Uie  hill,  or  rock, 
of  contention. 


A    POEM.  S2Q 

rolled  away  the  Grangers,  like  a  troubled  fea.  \\  £ 
cam<  tc  the  place  of  renown  1  from the  mountains  de- 
feend  d  night.  I  tore  an  oak-  from  Its  hill,  and  raiicd 
a  flame  on  high.  I  bade  my  fathers  to  look  down, 
from,  the  cfoud  ft!  i  hall ;  fcr,  at  the  fame  of  their 
race,  they  brighten  in  the  \ 

I  took  a  f! :.  ftfeam,  amidfi  the  fehg  of 

bards.     The  Wood'1 

ooze.    Beneath,  1  placed,  at  interval*  1  from 

th.  (hields  of  foes,  as  reft   or  fell  the  found  of  Ul' '.:';• 
a  dagger  in  earth,  a  mail  of 
' .    We  raifed  the  mould  around  the  ftone, 
le  it  fpeak  to  ether  years. 
Oozy  F  dreams,  that  now  art  rear    '  cM 

peak  to  the  Feeble,  O  ftone,  afferSelmas  race 
led!   Preue,  from  the  Rormy  niahV,  the  I 
ler  flwll  lay  him,  by,thy  fide  :   thy  whiffling  rnofs  fhafl 
found  in  Lis  dreams  ;  the  years  tnaf  were  pa  ft  mall  re- 
Battles  rile  before  him,  bfu 

•kened  moon  looks  from  ;, 

pn  the  troubled  field.     He  mall  burff,  with  rrii  \       ■, 
from  dreams,  and  fee  the  tombs  of  warriors  round.  He 
mall  afk  about  the  fione,  and  the  aged  wUl 
gray    Rone  was    railed  by    Oman,    a  cMef   of  other 
years  !" 

From  f  Col-amon   came  a  bard,    from  Car-id,   the 
He  bade  us  to  the  feaft  of  kings, 
;  of  bright  Coin  a-dona.    W<  • 
hall  of  harps.     There  Car-id  brightened  between  his 


-f  Trie  mannerjr.f  the  B'Uons  and  Caledonians  were  fo  fimllar  in  the  (lavs  of  Of. 

': 

■   :.in,  and 
the  idle 

- 

■    1  ;  rhougti 

- 

•  liiUntaTe 

■     ■    concerning 

s 


S.IQ  COLNA-DONA: 

aged  locks,  when  he  beheld  the  fons  of  his  friends,  like 
two  young  trees  with  their  leaves. 

"  Sons  of  the  mighty,"  he  faid,  "  ye  bring  back  the 
days  of  old,  when  firft  I  defcended  from  waves,  on  Sel- 
ma's  ftreamy  vale.  I  purfued  Duth-mocarglos,  dwel- 
ler of  ocean's  wind.  Our  fathers  had  been  foes,  we 
met  by  Clutha's  winding  waters.  He  fled,  along  the 
fea,  and  my  fails  were  fpread  behind  him.  Night  de- 
ceived me,  on  the  deep.  I  came  to  the  dwelling  of 
kings,  to  Selma  of  high-bofomed  maids.  Fingal  came 
forth  with  his  bards,  and  Conloch,  arm  of  death.  I 
feafted  three  days  in  the  hall,  and  faw  the  blue  eyes  of 
Erin,  Ros-crana,  daughter  of  heroes,  light  ofCormac's 
rsce.  Nor  forgot  did  my  Heps  depart :  the  kings 
gave  their  fhields  to  Car-ul .  they  hang,  on  high,  in 
Co'-amcn,  in  memory  of  the  pall.  Sons  of  the  dar- 
ing kings,  ye  bring  back  the  days  of  old." 

Car-ul  placed  the  cak  of  feafis.  He  took  two  boflesr 
from  our  fhields.  He  laid  them  in  earth,  beneath  a 
Hone,  to  fpeak  to  the  hero's  race.  "  When  battle, 
faid  the  king,  mall  roar,  and  our  fons  are  to  meet  in 
wrath ;  my  race  mail  look,  perhaps,  on  this  Hone,  wherr 
they  prepare  the  fpear.  Have  not  our  fathers  met  in 
peace,  they  will  fay,  and  lay  afide  the  fhield  ?" 

Night  came  down.  In  her  long  locks  moved  the 
daughter  of  Car-ul.  Mixed  with  the  harp  arofe  the 
voice  of  white-armed  Colna-dbna.  Tofcar  darkened 
in  his  place,  before  the  love  of  heroes.  She  came  on 
his  troubled  foul,  like  a  beam  to  the  dark-heaving  q- 
cean  :  when  it  burfts  from  a  cloud,  and  brightens  the 
foamy  fide  of  a  wave  f. 


With  morning  we  awaked  the  woods ;  and  hung 
forward  on  the  path  of  roes.  They  fell  by  their  wont- 
ed fcreams.  We  returned  through  Crona's  vale.  From 
the  wood  a  youth  came  forward,  with  a  fhield  and 

s  handed  down  fo  imperfe&lr,, 


A   POEM.  23I 

pointlefs  fpear.  "  Whence,  faid  Tofcar  of  Lutha,  i» 
the  flying  beam  ?  Dwells  there  peace  at  Col-amon, 
round  bright  Colna-dona  of  harps  i" 

"  By  Col-amon  of  ftreams,"  faid  the  youth, "  bright 
Colna-dona  dwelt.  She  dwelt ;  but  her  courfe  is  now  in 
deferts,  with  the  fon  of  the  king  ;  he  that  feized  her 
foul  as  it  wandered  through  the  hall. 

"  Stranger  of  tales,"  faid  Tofcar,  "  haft  thou  marked 
the  warrior's  courfe?  He  mull  fall;  give  thou  that  bofly 
fhield  !  In  wrath  he  took  the  fhield.  Fair  behind  it 
heaved  the  breafts  of  a  maid,  white  as  the  bofom  of  a 
fwan,  rifing  on  fwift-rolling  waves.  It  was  Colna-dona 
of  harps,  the  daughter  of  the  king.  Her  blue  eyes  had 
rolled  on  Tofcar,  and  her  love  arofe. 


THE  DEATH  OF  OSCAR. 

A    POEM. 


INTRODUCTION. 


bermidthc 

fun   of  Dia 

with  a  lamei 

fiaryofOfca 

rthef  nof 

v.cll  as  name 

:,  vith  Ofi; 

basgood  real 

•after  all,  r.il 

I  fomc.j  hs: 

XXThy  openeft  thou  afrefli  the  fpring  of  my  grief,  O 
*  v  fori  of  Alpin,  inquiring  how  Ofcar  fell  ?  My 
eyes  are  blind  with  tears ;  but  memory  beams  on  my 
heart.  How  cr.n  I  rehite  the  mournful  death  of  the 
head  of  the  people  !  Chief  of  the  warriors,  Ofcar,  my 
fen,  mall  I  fee  thee  no  more  ! 

He  fell  as  the  moon  in  a  ftorm  ;  as  the  fun  from  the 
midfi  of  nis  ccurfe,  when  clouds  rife  from  the  wafte  of 
the  waves,  when  the  blacknefs  of  the  ilorm  invvraps 
the  rocks  of  Ardaimider.  I,  like  an  ancient  oak  en 
on  MorvemT  moulder  alone  in  my  place.  The  blaft 
hath  lopped  my  branches  away  :  and  I  tremble  at  the 
wings  of  the  north. ,  Chief  of  the  warriors,  Ofcar,  my 
fon  !  ilia.Il  I  fee  thee  no  more  ! 

But,  fon  of  Alpin,  the  hero  fell  not  harmlefs  as  the 
grafsofthe  field  ;  the  bleed  of  the  mighty  was  on  his 
fword,  and  he  travelled  with  death  through  the  ranks 
of  their  pride.  But  Clear,  thou  fon  of  Caruth,  thou 
haft  fallen  lew  !  No  enemy  fell  by  thy  hand.  Thy 
fpearwas  ftained  with  the  blood  of  thy  friend. 

Dermid  and  Ofcar  were  one:  They  Reaped  the  bat- 
tle together.    Their  frisndjQun  was  ftrong  as  their  fteelj 


A   POBM.  '  2j£ 

and  death  walked  between  them  to  the  field.  They 
came  on  the  foe  like  two  rocks  falling  from  the  brows 
of  Ardven.  Their  fwords  were  ftained  with  the  blood 
of  the  valiant :  warriors  fainted  at  their  names.  Who 
was  equal  to  Ofcar,  but  Dermid  ?  and  who  'to  Der- 
mic!, but  Ofcar  ? 

They  killed  mighty  Dargo  in  the  field  ;  Dargo  who 
never  lied  in  war.  His  daughter  was  fair  as  the  morn ; 
mild  as  the  beam  of  night.  Her  eyes,  like  two  ftars 
in  afhower  ;  her  breath,  the  gale  of  fpriug:  herbreafts, 
as  the  new- fallen  ihow  floating  on  the  moving  heath. 
The  warriors  faw  her,  and  loved  ;  their  fouls  were  fix- 
ed on  the  maid.  Each  loved  her  as  his  fame ;  each 
muft  poffefs  her  or  die.  But  her  foul  was  fixed  on 
Ofcar  ;  the  fon  of  Caruth  was  the  youth  of  her  love. 
She  forgot  the  blood  of  her  father ;  and  loved  the 
hand  that  flew  him. 

Son  of  Caruth,  faid  Dermid,  I  love  ;  O  Ofcar,  I  love 
this  maid.  But  her  foul  cleaveth  unto  thee  ;  and 
nothing  can  heal  Dermid.  Here,  pierce  this  bofom, 
Ofcar  ;  relieve  me,  my  friend,  with  thy  fword. 

My  fword,  fon  of  Diaran,  fhall  never  be  ftained 
with  the  blood  of  Dermid. 

Who  then  is  worthy  to  flay  me,  O  Ofcar,  fon  of  Ca- 
ruth ?  Let  not  my  life  pafs  away  unknown.  Let  none 
but  Ofcar  flay  me.  Send  me  with  honour  to  the  grave, 
and  let  my  death  be  renowned. 

Dermid,  make  ufe  of  thy  fword  ;  fon  of  Diaran, 
wield  thy  fteel.  Would  that  I  fell  with  thee !  that 
my  death  came  from  the  hand  of  Dermid  ! 

They  fought  by  the  brook  of  the  mountain,  by  the 
ftreams  of  Branno.  Blood  tinged  the  running  water, 
and  curdled  round  the  mofly  Hones.  The  (lately  Der- 
mid fell ;  he  fell,  and  fmiled  in  death. 

And  falleft  thou,  fon  of  Diaran,  falleft  thou  by  Of- 
car's  hand  !  Dermid,  who  never  yielded  in  war,  thus 
do  I  fee  thee  fall !  He  went,  and  returned  to  the  mai4 
of  his  love  ;  he  returned,  but  fhe  perceived  his  grief. 


51^4  THE  DEATH  OP  OSCAR:    A  POEM. 

Why  that  gloom,  fon  of  Caruth  ?  what  fhades  thy 
mighty  foul  ? 

Though  once  renowned  for  the  bow,  O  maid,  I 
have  loft  my  fame.  Fixed  on  a  tree  by  the  brook  of 
the  hill,  is  the  fhield  of  the  valliant  Gormur,  whom  I 
flew  in  battle.  I  have  wafted  the  day  in  vain,  nor 
Could  my  arrow  pierce  it. 

Let  me  try,  fon  of  Caruth,  the  (kill  of  Dargo's 
daughter.  My  hands  were  taught  the  bow  :  my  fa- 
ther delighted  in  my  (kill. 

She  went.  He  flood  behind  the  fhield.  Her  arrow 
flew,  and  pierced  his  breaft. 

Bleffed  be  that  hand  of  fnow  ;  and  blefled  that  bow 
of  yew  !  Who  but  the  daughter  of  Dargo  was  worthy 
to  flay  the  fon  of  Caruth  ?  Lay  me  in  the  earth,  my 
fair  one  ;  lay  me  by  the  fide  of  Dermid. 

Ofcar  !  the  maid  replied,  I  have  the  foul  of  the 
mighty  Dargo.  Well  pleafed  I  can  meet  death.  My 
foirow  I  can  end.  She  pierced  her  white  bofom  with 
the  ftcel.     She  fell ;  me  trembled  ;  and  died. 

By  the  brook  of  the  hill  their  graves  are  laid  ;  a 
birch's  unequal  made  covers  their  tomb.  Often  on 
their  green  earthen  tombs  the  branchy  fons  of  the 
mountain  feed,  when  mid-day  is  all  in  flames,  and  li- 
cence over  all  the  hills. 


R.    CHAPMAN, 
PRINTER. 


CONTENTS 


VOLUME   SECOND. 


Page. 

CARTHON  -  - 5 

DEATH  OF  CUCHUL- 

LIN      -------  18 

DAR-THULA      -  -  -  -  26 

CARIC-THURA 39 

SONGS  OF  SELMA  -  52 
CALTHON  AND    COL- 

MAL     - 60 

LATHMCN      -----  67 

OITHONA 77 

CROMA 83 

BERRATHON  -  -  -  -  90 
TEMORA,  Book  I.  -  -    IOI 

Book  II.  -  117 
Book  III.  139 
Book  IV.  140 


Page. 
TEMORA,  Book  V.    -    I5I 

Book  VI.  161 
Book  VII.  17a 
Book  VIII.  182 

CATHLIN      OF      CLU- 

THA 195 

SUL-MALLA    OF    LU- 

MON     -------   202 

cath-loda,  Part  I.    208 
Part  II.   215 
Part  III.  220 
OINA-MORUL  -  -  -  -  224 
COLNA-DONA  -  -  -  -  228 
THE   DEATH    OF    OS- 
CAR     -------  .232 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

THE  Proprietors  of  this  work,  cannot  omit 
the  preient  opportunity  of  returning  their  grateful 
thanks  to  the  Public  for  the  liberal  encouragement 
they  have  fo  amply  bellowed.  They  pledge  them- 
felves,  mould  they  attempt  at  a  future  period  any 
work  upon  a  fimilar  plan  as  the  prefent,  that  for  quali- 
ty of  paper,  execution  of  the  engravings,  and  the 
beauty  and  accuracy  of  the  printing,  it  will  in  no  re- 
fpecl  be  inferior  to  the  prefent. 

The  only  reafon  that  can  be  given  as  an  apology 
for  irregularity  as  to  the  time  Specified,  is  eminent  artifts 
being  much  employed,  and  it  being  out  01  their  ppwef 
from  the  multiplicity  of  bufineis,"  to  finifh.  plates  in  due 
time,  be  fides,  the  unavoidable  difadvantage  which  muft 
attend  every  pubtifher  when  he  is  under  the  neceffity 
of  engaging  artifts  at  above  four  hundred  miles  di- 
ftance. 


CAMERON  &  MURDOCH 

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tions fo  loon  as  published,  and  of  every  other  nevr 
publication  of  merit* 


CONTENTS 

or 
VOLUME  FIRST. 


Page, 

p 

age. 

PREFACE,   

fingal,  Book  I. 

I 

A  dissertation  con- 

Book II.    -  - 

16 

cerning  the  jera  and 

Book  III.  -  - 

27 

POEMS  of  OSSIAN,         I 

Book  IV.  -  - 

39 

A  dissertation  con- 

Book V.    -  - 

5? 

cerning  the    POEMS 

Book  VI.  -  - 

60 

of  OSSIAN, 15 

COMALA,  ------- 

7° 

A  CRITICAL  DISSERTA- 

THE WAR  OF  CAROS, 

76 

TION  on  the  poems 

WAR  OF  INIS-THONA, 

83 

of   OSSIAN, 45 

BATTLE  OF  LORA,-  - 

S9 

Appendix,  -----  136 

CONLATH      AND     CU- 

THONAj    ------ 

•  97 

•;■' 


mm